


The Liberation of Flatland

by Diranda



Series: The Liberation of Flatland [1]
Category: Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls) - Fandom, Dirandan Chronicles, Flatland - Edwin A. Abbott, Gravity Falls
Genre: Flatland - Freeform, M/M, Mild Language, Rebellion, The Prisoner (1967) References, Triangle Bill Cipher, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 67,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diranda/pseuds/Diranda
Summary: This is Bill Cipher's backstory, his life and how he became the demon he was later accused to be.  It is the story of how he 'liberated' his dimension.This is my 2020 NaNoWriMo, "The Liberation of Flatland".  It is intended to be a serious look at some of the darker aspects of the society described in E.A. Abbot's 'Flatland' through the eye of William Sifras, later Bill Cipher. In addition to that, it explains his ascension to the demon known to the universe as the Master of the Mindscape.It will be updated as I finish the chapters and as with all my work, I invite readers to participate by commenting and interacting with the work as it progresses.  This is intended to be finished by the end of November, but you never know with stories like this.  It may take off on its own.Update:  This work has won the 2020 NaNoWriMo competition!
Relationships: Bill Cipher/Original Male Character(s), Bill cipher - Relationship
Series: The Liberation of Flatland [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979080
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. He Was Discontent

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in a great part by some of the most notable dystopian fiction and media of the mid 20th Century, this story has become something bigger than it was originally intended to be. It's the story of Bill Cipher, in one of the most confusing of dystopias: the Flatland of E. A. Abbot. It has drawn elements from other dystopian stories I have been a student of over the years, including 1984, The Prisoner, The Hunger Games and Fahrenheit 451. Though I have not included most of these in my crossover tags, I have added The Prisoner, because this is a major influence in more than my own writing. The Flatland films themselves have nodded to this subversive, dark science fiction television show. 
> 
> "A Still Tongue Makes A Happy Life"  
> "Attend To Your Configuration"
> 
> News and background information will be available on Mystic Pines, Nightmare Realm and possibly the book's own blog, should I feel it needs one.  
> As always, check: Mystic Pines: http://www.diranda.com/mysticpines/ AND Nightmare Realm: http://www.diranda.com/nightmarerealm/ for more information, art and other fun stuff!
> 
> The NaNo page for this book is: https://nanowrimo.org/participants/diranda/projects/the-liberation-of-flatland

Once upon a time there was a young man. 

He lived in a boring, average house, on a boring, average street in a boring, average neighborhood, in a boring, average world called _Flatland_.

His name was **_William Markus Sifras_**.

And he was discontent. 

Which is how he _destroyed_ his world and himself.

**_The Liberation of Flatland_ **

* * *

Chapter One: He Was Discontent

_Sixty degrees that come in threes..._

_Time: The 'Neo-Modern Age', 80 years post 'Flatland: A Romance Of Many Dimensions'_

_Place: Trikampis Village, Cyran Prefecture, Flatland, The Second Dimension_

Bill Cipher wasn't always the Master of the Mindscape, The Cipher, Lord of the Nightmare Realm. He wasn't always the demon who tormented the Pines family in myriad dimensions throughout the Multiverse.

Once, a very long time ago, Bill Cipher was a mortal, a young man by the name of William Markus Sifras.

He lived in a small village in a place called Flatland, in the Second Dimension.

He was an Equilateral Triangle, the only adopted son of a childless but State Sanctioned Triangle family. This simply meant that due to their Perfection in shape, lack of viable offspring and socially acceptable behavior, they were allowed to adopt the Equilateral child of an inferior Isosceles couple.

The Triangle, Karolis and his wife, the Line, Louisa were grateful and loving parents. They weren't rich but money wasn't that important to the small family. Karolis was an assistant manager in a music store, a job he was expected to be content with and for the most part, he was. He didn't aspire to anything more and he never made an attempt to improve his lot. This wouldn't have been a particularly practical use of his time as Triangles were not expected to desire anything beyond their lot in life as simple, common men. 

Respectable Equilateral Triangles performed jobs such as shop keepers, assistant managers, servants to the Higher Shapes, entertainers, civil and general office workers; positions that were only suitable for the most common of common men, occupations that no _refined,_ genteel Shape would perform, yet were _required_ for the proper functioning of society.

Triangles with _unequal_ sides, the Isosceles, were not fit for proper company. They were the 'rabble', only suitable for jobs as soldiers, militia; anything strong, dangerous, _stupid_ shapes were good for.

Even something Modern Spacelanders might consider as 'glamorous' as being an entertainer, in the Flatland of which we speak, was a job only fit for a commoner. In general, Flatlander entertainers were considered untrustworthy, less than reputable creatures that were only a step above common criminals. 

Even their dubious reputation as vagabonds and charlatans notwithstanding, the Nobility: the Many-Sided and the Circles themselves, relished the decadence and 'wicked delectation' of their entertainments and as a result, such a profession was about the only way any common Shape could hope to find wealth above his station, regardless of what it was. Triangles and Squares were generally the only Shapes who were _permitted_ to become entertainers, though Square performers were viewed marginally better than their three-sided counterparts.

William was much more ambitious than his father. He was handsome, clever, outgoing and smart, much smarter than he really should have been for a Triangle. If he had been of average intelligence, perhaps none of what followed would have happened. If he hadn't been ambitious, if he hadn't been an idealistic, passionate, flamboyant young man, perhaps he wouldn't have gained the attention from the Entities that led to his Ascension and his eventual encounters with the Pines family.

William desired to be a scientist. He craved it with an intense passion that was only matched by his desire to be a classical pianist.

In his lifetime he would only ever achieve _one_ of those goals.

Beyond that, he would achieve everything he'd ever wanted and more.

So much _more_.

***

It all began simply enough.

When William was about thirteen years of age, he entered what we Spacelanders would call 'High School'. He was excited, of course, learning was one thing he excelled at and he couldn't get enough of filling his brain with music, history, science, art, mathematics and literature. Though he'd always found education easy, as a Triangle, he impressed his teachers with his capability for learning anything they were willing to teach; and _many_ more things they were _not_.

As a child, Billy Sifras would boast to his family, his friends and his instructors that he would be the First Triangle Scientist, even when those people told him sadly, that Triangles did not become Scientists, they were not suited for such things. They were not capable of understanding advanced concepts like Physics, Biology and Chemistry.

Billy brushed these admonishments off with a childlike certainty that _he_ would be _different_. _He_ would _change_ things. _He_ , little Billy Sifras, would make the world see that _even_ Triangles could think Great Thoughts and Create Great Science.

When William was a child, this was thought of as cute. Sad, yes. But cute.

When William grew older, it began to be less cute. More _concerning_.

Triangles did not rise above their station. Unless one was an _entertainer_ but well-brought-up, Socially Acceptable Triangles did not _do_ such things.

Granted, William's father did work in a music shop, which catered to entertainers as well as the more gentrified students of music theory, who _never_ sought to perform music for _money_. Music was a respectable pastime, as long as one were studying it or listening to it or learning the intricacies of instrumentation. Only Squares performed in orchestras and only Squares received any kind of respect for pursuing a career in music. So while Karol enjoyed listening to music, he was not capable of playing an instrument.

William, however, was.

Not only could he _play_ the piano, he played _well_.

Exceedingly well.

He played technically challenging Classical pieces at the age of ten.

At thirteen, he was _composing_ them.

William Sifras was, in fact, a genius. A musical and scientific prodigy at the age of thirteen.

And nobody knew it, except for his parents.

And for their safety and his, they wanted to keep it that way.

William did not.

He understood many things. What he did not, what he _refused_ to understand, was _why_ he wasn't allowed to learn and play and pursue his dreams simply because of the number of Sides he had. He didn't want to be miserable, forever seeing a star he wasn't able to reach and hold in his thin little hands.

So it all started one autumn afternoon as he was walking home from a particularly frustrating day in his freshman year of High School. He was angry, nearly to the point of tears but he'd be _damned_ if he were going to let them show, _especially_ to the pedantic lout of a Square who was his homeroom teacher.

"Come along, young man. Don't make this more difficult on your parents than it already is," a weedy voice sneered from the front walk of a house not too far from his position on the sidewalk.

Bill paused, curiosity peeking as he rounded the corner and saw an Official Ministry of Inspection car and a patrol wagon parked in the driveway of the house of a childhood friend, _Laurence_. On the walk stood several Ministry officials; Hexagon, a Square, several Pentagon Inspectors and a small group of the Isosceles Village Militia, surrounding the smaller figure of a Triangle.

_Menacingly_.

There was no other word for it that Bill knew and he knew a lot of words.

He watched the scene play out in front of him. Laurence's parents, a quiet couple, who worked in the local grocer's, stood in the doorway of their home: silent, unmoving.

_Terrified._

Laurence's mother was clearly struggling with tears, more afraid to make a noise than to voice them and his father was silent, stoic, one arm around his devastated wife.

Laurence was nearly hidden in the group of Shapes surrounding him as though he were a wanted murderer they had finally captured.

Bill understood. He didn't _want_ to but he understood. The reality confronting him burned away his earlier humiliation in an instant.

"Hey!" he shouted, starting towards the little group of adults.

"What do _you_ think you're doing, little boy?" the Pentagon who'd initially spoken said, turning his Shape to fully confront Bill. "Mind your business and go home."

"What do did Laurence do? Why are you treating him like a common criminal?"

Bill knew full well what they were doing. The inhumanity of it burned through him in a searing torrent of rage. He could hear the terrified gasps and murmuring of the frightened townsfolk, either hovering in their homes, doors cracked just enough to watch the horror unfolding in their quiet little neighborhood, or peering through carefully curtained windows.

He didn't care.

People were sheep. _He_ was not one of them.

The weedy, skinny Pentagon approached him. His eye smirked. His words were cruel, condescending. "Don't concern yourself with this, little boy. Go home to your father and let us be about this unfortunate business."

"He's my friend," Bill snapped back, completely unperturbed by this supposed _superior_ man and his arrogance. "And I don't think you oughta be takin' him away!"

The Pentagon nearly laughed in Bill's face.

As it was, he approached uncomfortably close and jabbed a skinny finger into Bill's chest, just below his eye. Bill didn't move. Not even a little bit. 

He glared right back at the bigger, older Polygon.  
"I'll have you know--"

"BILLY!"

_That_ was the only sound that made the young man wince.

His father's voice.

"William Sifras, come home this instant!" Only Bill could catch the note of pure, unadulterated terror in his father's stern, angry tone.

The Pentagon nearly laughed. "Ah, yes, you should go home to your _family_ , little triangle. You wouldn't want to attract undue _attention_ , now would you?"

Casting an eye towards Laurence, Bill tried to see his friend, tried to catch his attention. Unfortunately the other boy had his back turned and Bill could see his _Irregular_ angles trembling.

This was only making things worse for Laurence.

Bill stiffened.

The Pentagon was smirking again.

"BILL!" the fear was evident now. To everyone.

Biting back a response with considerable effort, Bill stepped back, away from the Pentagon. He turned finally, angles slumping and made his way back to his father's house.

***

That wasn't the last time William witnessed an Inspection. Over time, more and more of his classmates were taken away. Some were simply there one day and gone the next. Nobody talked about them. Their families seemed to forget they even _existed_. Even their closest friends acted as though they never knew them.

Bill knew why of course.

Irregularity was not only illegal, it was viewed as the worst kind of _mutation._ It was as bad as chromaticism and in many ways, worse. His world was a world of Geometric Perfection. An Irregular Shape was an offense to the very Nature of existence. Irregularity was tolerated in younger Shapes, because it could be an affliction one could grow out of as angles matured and calcified into solid, Perfect frames. Occasionally, it could be repaired; angles broken and forcibly reformed until Perfection was attained.

Hospitals existed for such things though procedures like this rarely succeeded and the incurable were eventually killed through such procedures or simply died from the trauma.

In the past, this was the only way Irregularity could be possibly remedied and those few Shapes who achieved Perfection through medical science were relegated to shorter, pain-racked lives, living in State Care Facilities and eventually died in their early twenties. Perfection was achieved, however, which was all the Circles cared about.

Geometric Perfection was how all Shapes eventually attained the Ultimate Perfection that was the Circle. Through carefully monitored State Sponsored reproduction, Equilaterals might eventually produce Squares, who, with the Blessings of the Circles, would produce Pentagons and so on.

This was more commonly the way Shapes were created in the past. In Bill's time, this method was not as successful. Equilaterals, more often than not, produced other Equilaterals, occasionally Isosceles or rarer, Irregulars like Scalenes and such.

The Circles, the Perfection of the Universe on Earth, proclaimed that this was simply because in the Past, enforcement of Inspection was due to their ancestors primitive understanding of Medicine and much more lax tolerance of those afflicted. They determined that the only way to ensure the _correct_ propagation of the species was to more strictly control and excise the Irregular from the population.

Thus, Inspection came for the young men and women of Flatland, twice a year. Once in Autumn and once in Spring. This created an almost constant climate of fear for the young Shapes which peaked during the Inspection 'Holidays' (as the Circles called them). It was spun, relatively successfully, into a positive campaign to promote Perfection of Form, with the more 'distasteful' aspects of the Inspection Holiday purposefully diminished to create an environment of celebration rather than fear. For the privileged classes, it was, for the most part, as, in these Modern Times, Irregularity amongst the wealthy was rare. Due of course, the Circles said, to the great advances in modern science and social manipulation, as well as the Natural Perfection of the Polygonal Shapes on the whole.

However, the Young Lesser Shapes never saw this as a party. 

***

_Junior Year, Cyran Prefecture Public Secondary School_

The library was empty this time of day.

William knew the schedule by heart.

Quietly, he pushed open the door and slipped inside. The Librarian was taking his regular coffee break while the entire student body was in their daily Circular Briefing, a mandatory assembly all students were required to attend. Bill knew secret ways throughout the school and could avoid being missed quite easily. He only needed to ensure he was counted at the beginning and end of the assembly. Being a Triangle, he could easily mix in with the others and slip away.

He did this quite often. It was the only way he had been able to continue his advanced education in the sciences and mathematics he was denied otherwise.

This day, he'd crept into the section, returning books he'd stolen earlier, seeking the next in the series, _anything_ that would help him learn. In the beginning of these secret trips, everything he _thought_ he ever wanted was at his fingertips in the pages of the books surrounding him. These few, secret hours in the depths of the stacks were the only times he was truly _happy_. 

He'd been denied the piano, denied his _music_ , once he reached his second year and the true secret of his genius had finally been discovered. While Triangles _could_ be musicians, his school's parochial, elitist faculty were firm in their assertion that no student of theirs would ever sink to the depths of being an entertainer. Thus, for his own good, Bill was to be directed _away_ from the temptation of such unwholesome debauchery and focused towards the _respectable_ life of a Tradesman, as were all the other young Equilaterals in their care.

His only solace now was in Science and Mathematics. He could find beauty, poetry and even _music_ in the equations, in the theories and in the astonishing _ideas_ they created in his brain. There was so much _more_ to learn and what he couldn't find, his own brain was swiftly piecing together. He _knew_ there was so much more than the frustratingly _limited_ ideas these books were _attempting_ to shed light on.

Bill's passion for more only increased the more he realized how antiquated the knowledge was.

As he looked over the volumes, his hand brushed against a loose book, which toppled to the floor with a resounding _bang_ that sent wary shock waves through his angles. He went stock-still, hardly even breathing, hoping that, should someone else be in the library, they hadn't heard.

Silence filled the space around him, thick and heavy.

After an oppressive, timeless moment, Bill took a deep breath, opened his eye which almost immediately widened.

In the place on the shelf, where the loose book had been, was a tiny, nearly hidden space, a kind of alcove. Which wasn't empty. The glint of worn brass bindings shimmered in the dim. Curiosity warred with excitement and he reached his hand into the mysterious darkness.

It was a book.

A slim volume, a tiny, hand-lettered book, clumsily but lovingly bound in brass wire.

_Flatland._

Bill nearly lost the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as the title glared up at him in all its humble, handwritten beauty.

_By Arthur Square, Esq._

_A journal of an Extraordinary encounter with a Being from Spaceland._

Bill gulped softly. 

It was _treason_ , this book he held. Treason of the worst kind. He could be _executed_ simply for the accident of finding it.

What it was doing _here_ in his school library, he wasn't at all sure. He didn't even know if this was _the_ Flatland, written by Arthur Square himself, or if it was simply a copy made by an admirer. Either way, it was _death_ he held in his slim, young fingers.

A _thrill_ rang through his Shape and he shoved the book deep into the bottom of his satchel. Reading it _here_ was not even an option. 

He'd take it home, wait until his parents were asleep and read it under the covers of his bed with a flashlight.

And read it, he did.

Cover to cover. Over and over until the pitiful little thing's ink was blurry, until it was falling apart, until it disintegrated in his hands.

By then, he'd committed it to his considerable memory. By then, William had penned his own copy in a code only _he_ knew, in a journal of his own.

It was the first of many journals he would keep over his lifetime.

It was the first of many Ciphers he would create, keep and hold close to his heart for millennia to follow.


	2. The History Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill meets a new Shape at his school's History Club, the Rhomboid, Alistair.

_Junior Year, Early Spring_

This year's theme was "Configuration Festival". There were banners and posters all over the school's halls featuring happy teen Triangles, Squares and Pentagons 'measuring' each other joyfully amidst glitter, confetti, _circular_ balloons and other 'festivalesque' illustrations. It looked fun, silly, completely non-threatening and _insipid_.

It was more than that. It was _nauseating_.

Bill made a point to avoid looking at the posters and banners but it was difficult.

As the students filed out after classes, Bill moved purposefully against the flow, making his way back to the library. Every day, after school, the one and only school club he was a member of met here, in a small storage room.

He pushed open the library door and headed into the back. A couple of students were already going into the club's little room, where the school's new Librarian kept boxes of unshelved books, notepads and writing supplies. It doubled as his break room, which also supplied the club-members with coffee or tea and snacks. He never seemed to mind if they used the snacks since most of the members chipped in to make up for it.

Bill left a few coins in a funny, beat-up old black velvet tophat sitting by the coffee maker and found a seat to settle in before the meeting began. 

"Bill? Hi! I want you to meet someone!" a Line said, waving as she came in. She dropped her coins in the hat and motioned to a cloudy gray Shape that was following her.

Bill tilted his angle, looking up at her. "Nan? Who is that?" He generally wasn't particularly interested in new Shapes but this one caught his attention. 

He was a Rhomboid.

One rarely saw Squares tilted on their angles and this one was kind of amazing looking. The newcomer smiled with his eye and inclined his angle politely.

"Hullo," he said in a rather charming, soft rolling accent that Bill couldn't quite place.

Nan smiled brightly with her eye and patted Bill's right angle. "William Sifras, meet Alistair Kendrick. He just moved to the village. His father's an attorney."

Bill set his precious satchel down on the floor and stood up. He extended a hand toward Alistair, who took it and shook it politely.

"This is Bill, Alistair, his father works in a music shop. He's an _amazing_ piano player!"

"His father?" Alistair said with a knowing chuckle.

Nan flustered and giggled. "Oh! No, I mean, _Bill_ is! I wish he could play for us but they--"

Bill shot her a _look_.

"Uh... sorry Bill."

Alistair seemed to understand and gave a sympathetic nod. "Nice t' meet you, _Bill,_ " he said. "Maybe y' might play f'me sometime?"

Nan glanced from Bill to Alistair and her eye widened slightly. She gave another, softer giggle. "Ah, well, I'll leave you guys to chat. I need to help get the meeting started." She hurried off to talk to some of the other students.

The handsome Rhomboid chuckled again and sat down next to Bill. "She kinda latched on t' me in homeroom an' told me about th' club, so I thought I might come an' check it out."

"Yeah, Nan's like that. It doesn't seem like it but she's smart as a whip and it ticks off the teachers big time," Bill said with a grin. "Not many Lines _get_ to go to school with us."

"It's not like tha' in m' old town," Alistair said. "Girls don't get t'go t'school at _all_."

"Stupid," Bill said, then stopped himself short. "Uh, well--"  
"Nah, don' worry 'bout me," Alistair said with a casual wave of a hand. "I understan' cause I feel th' same way. M'sister... uh, well, b'fore..." He broke off and looked away.

Bill frowned slightly. "Alistair?"

"M'sister. Um. Y'know th' Inspection Holiday..."

_Wow._ It was rare that Lines were Inspected. He'd never known of any from his village that had been. 

"I'm sorry," Bill said softly. "For your loss."

Alistair sighed. "Thanks, Bill."

"Hm..." he said after a thought, "I, uh... think you might like our club."

Alistair tilted his angle and his eye glimmered a bit. It was a soft, light gray and it was really... _beautiful_. "Nan mentioned tha' t' me."

"Welcome to the History Club," a dark gray Square said at the front of the room and the students settled down and turned their eyes toward him. "Especially to our _newcomers_." He waved at Alistair. "In case you're not aware," he said, "we are meeting with the permission of the Librarian, Joseph. He's a _friend_. In our Club, we enjoy studying together, researching and learning about the history of our people, our lands and the stories and myths of our ancestors. We're open-minded and we think that learning from the past is important to shaping the future." He glanced around a moment and lowered his voice, "Not everyone agrees with that, unfortunately." He sighed, offered a weak smile and his voice went back to normal, "Anyway, my name is Daniel but you can call me 'Dan' or 'Danny'. My father is an office-manager at the Squaricles Publishing Company. Let's go around and introduce ourselves to our guests."

Nan stood up. "I'm Nancy but please call me 'Nan'. My father is an Instructor here at Cyran. He teaches Introduction to Business for Triangles and he's a Square. He's _cool_ , by the way."

Bill nodded. He was actually one of the few teachers he liked. He seemed to understand Bill's dislike of the role he'd been forced to conform to.

Alistair sat quietly and listened as each of the club members introduced themselves and as the guests were encouraged to do the same. The club was small, mostly Equilaterals and Squares but there were two Pentagons and one other newbie, a shy, pretty little Line, Myrna.

When it came around to Alistair, he stood up, inclined his angle a moment and quietly said, "I'm Alistair. I, uh, don't have a nickname, I guess. M'father is a Square an' he's a private attorney from th' Eber district up North. He's workin' f' th' Prefect here now. We're _not_ snobs though..." He sighed. "I-I jus' don' want anyone thinkin' tha' I think I'm better than anyone else jus' cause of tha'..." He seemed nervous and Bill found himself warming up even more to the guy. "I-I'm jus'... well. Seems hard t'find friends when y'father works f'... well..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Lister," Bill said before he realized what he was doing. He jumped up and put a hand on the other boy's angle. "We're all friends here. Don't worry, okay?"

Alistair flushed a bit, a kind of cloudy gray that went through his otherwise pale gray Shape. He looked over at Bill, who smiled back at him with his eye.

The other kids chimed in, supporting Bill's reassurances. Even the shy little Myrna. They all got up and surrounded Alistair, smiling, chatting and wholeheartedly welcoming him.

Alistair flushed a bit deeper and Bill couldn't help smiling a bit more. He was proud of his friends but really not that surprised. Nan did a good thing, bringing this Shape to them. It was clear this sweet, gentle Shape needed _real_ friends and Bill was pretty certain he'd found them in his little History Club.

He went over to the girl. "I think he'll be okay here," Bill said to her.

"Yeah. When I saw him, he was being bullied by some of the other creepy Pents and Squares because he's a foreigner and because his dad's job kinda came out pretty quick. He even turned the snobs down flat when they _decided_ he was one of them, so they all decided he was a target."

Bill frowned. "Probably shocked 'em. I don't think they've ever been rejected by one of their own."

"That's just it, he's _not_. Obviously."

"Yeah, true."

"You like him, don't you?" Nan said softly.

"Yeah! He's great!" Bill said, her tone sailing over his angle. "I really do. He's... _intriguing_."

She sighed. "Bill, he's a Square. Just... be careful."

Bill looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Just... he's not a Triangle. Or a Triangle's Line. I... don't want you to get hurt."

_Ah._ "I will," he said, smiling disarmingly at her. "You know me... I'm nothing if not careful."

Nan inclined her eye. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Bill chuckled.

***

"Tha's... I-I... jus' have no _words_ , Bill!" Alistair gasped. "It's-it's... I-I..." He flushed that attractive gray color that just made Bill _happy_ , whenever he saw it.

Bill sat at the grand piano in Alistair's music room and smiled back at the other Shape. 

"It's something I composed a couple of years ago. For fun," he said softly. "I-I've missed being able to play. Thank you so much."

Alistair's house was large and empty most of the time, since his father was generally always working. There was no one else there, only Alistair and sometimes a servant or two. It was strange to Bill, seeing a Square like Alistair living in such a grand place. Objectively, he knew it really _wasn't_ that grand but to _him_ , coming from the tiny cottage he and his parents lived in, it was a _palace_.

They had a _piano_. All their own. 

Bill had only ever been able to use a small piano at the music store or one at the school, before he'd been forbidden to continue his music by the school's 'recommendation'. A recommendation his parents were too intimidated to ignore.

He knew how much trouble he and his folks could get into if anyone found out he'd been allowed to play Alistair's piano and Alistair knew to stay quiet about it. Though, Bill had learned, if Alistair's father found out, he wouldn't say anything either. This only served to deepen Bill's affection for his new friend.

"Do you play?" Bill asked, standing and walking over to Alistair.

"Only a little. Nowhere near as well as y'do."

"Maybe I could teach you? If you wanted," Bill said sitting on the sofa where Alistair had been sitting the entire time Bill was playing. "It'd be kinda fun, I think."

"Sure!" Alistair said and grinned. "I'd like tha' an' I think m' Da would like it as well. We got th' piano f'm' sister an' after she... uh, was gone, Da hoped I'd pick it up. I jus' was never as good at it as she was though."

Bill couldn't quite get over Alistair's accent. It always sent warm tingles through him when it thickened as the boy got more emotional and... _nervous_? He tended to stutter sometimes when he was _really_ nervous and it got pretty hard to understand him. But Bill _loved_ it.

He was beginning to wonder if Nan was actually _right_ about him. About how Bill felt about Alistair. She'd hinted from the beginning that Bill might be crushing on the new boy, a fact that Bill found odd at first. The more he got to know Alistair, though...

Alistair was grinning at him.

"You're awful quiet, Bill," he said, "whatcha thinkin' about?"

Bill shrugged. "Aw, just stuff," he said dismissively. Glancing around them, he thought a moment. There _was_ something else he wanted to bring up and he thought perhaps this might be the best place to do it. That, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to dwell on his attraction to Alistair _too_ long or...

"Uh, hey. A-are we alone today? I mean, right now? Nobody else is here, right?"

"Yeah," Alistair said, considering him a moment. "Just us. Th' servants have th' day off since Da is out of town. Why?"

Bill was beginning to wonder if Alistair suspected the _depth_ of his own interest in him. Best to divert that thought until Bill had some _time_ to figure it out himself.

"Okay," he said, "well, you know the History Club... well... it isn't _just_ about history, right?"

"Uh huh," Alistair said. "Y' talk about all kinds a' stuff other'n history. About laws an' politics an'--"

"Yeah. But we're _careful_ , Alistair. And we don't just meet at the school. We meet at each other's houses for well, the adults think it's book clubs and parties and stuff. We also meet _somewhere_ else. And the adults don't know about that."

He drew a deep breath and opened his eye to look at Alistair.

"We don't... _like_ what's going on in the world. We want to _change_ it. We, uh... don't think the Circles are right. We don't think the laws are right either. The Inspections, the rules against chromatists, the caste system we have and the restrictions of configuration--"

"You're Subversives," Alistair said softly, putting a hand on Bill's angle.

Bill's eye went huge. 

"Yeah, I know tha'," Alistair said even more quietly. "Cause... so are _we_."

***

The first time Bill brought Alistair to the History Club's secret meeting location, the Rhomboid was in awe.

It was the ruins of an ancient building, which Dan was pretty sure was an old Library, though he was still doing the research to be sure.

Bill, himself, suspected the ruins were more than that, since there were underground spaces that seemed more like ancient alchemy laboratories, places where the people were doing some kind of scientific experimentation. He'd read about this kind of thing in his own research, from restricted and illegal texts that made up his own hidden libraries, hidden books he'd only recently managed to find a safe place for. Which was actually in one of the vaults he'd found in one of the ancient labs in this old ruin.

He'd managed to crack the code, learned the ciphers and recoded it so he knew his precious books would be completely _safe_ , even if the Circles found the place and raided it.

Of course, he never kept his copy of _Flatland_ in it. That went everywhere with him and until he finished copying it into his journal, it would stay with him. Then it would go into the safe with the other precious books.

Bill grinned up at his friend, at his wide-eyed enchantment with the beautiful old place. Even as tumble-down as it was, it _was_ gorgeous. The wind blew through the cracks and breaks in the walls, stirring up the fallen leaves in eddies of soft, flowing sparkles that caught the evening light and sent motes of mysterious glitter across their flat, limited field of vision.

No one _officially_ knew where the light came from.

Well, Bill and his friends did but that knowledge was _forbidden_.

"Did you ever read _Flatland_?" Bill had asked Alistair once, not too long ago.

"Yes. My father has a copy," Alistair said. "We keep it safe and hidden but he asked me t'read it shortly before we moved here."

"What did ya think?"

"I loved it," Alistair said. "An' I _believe_ it. I jus' hope maybe someday I can _see_ three dimensions."

It was at that point Bill _knew_ he had to show Alistair the alchemy lab.

Nobody else was here at the moment. It was midnight, they'd snuck out after their parents were asleep.

"Follow me."

Bill led Alistair into the ruins and down into the underground passages. 

"Is this... I want t'say it's a _lab_ of some kind," Alistair said as he followed along. "But it _can't_ be, can it?"

"Danny says no but I don't agree," Bill said. "There's some pretty obvious signs that whatever they were doin' down here, it was more than just cataloging books."

"You sound so _certain_ , Bill," Alistair said in awe, "you're so _clever_!"

"Yeah, well..." Bill couldn't help the thrill of pride that shot through him at Alistair's praise. He _knew_ he was smart but it never ceased to be a kick when _other_ people pointed it out. "Heh. It takes some _work_ but it's always worth it when I learn somethin' new. And something that Dan _doesn't_ know."

"Seems there's a bit of competition b'tween you two," Alistair said with a chuckle. "Friendly, though. Less I'm readin' y' wrong."

"Yeah, friendly. He knows I know my stuff," Bill said. "Even if it kinda irritates his angles when I prove I'm right. When it comes to the _important_ stuff, Dan and I... we're both on the same track."

"Heh. If I didn't know better, I'd say y' run the club as much as Danny does."

Bill paused. He turned to Alistair. "You're right. Dan and I made the club. Nan helped. It was her idea to call it the History Club, to keep the adults off our scent."

Alistair gave a deep sigh. He found a less dusty stone and sat down on it.

"You guys gotta be more careful," he said finally. "Bill... the adults aren't stupid. They're gonna figure you guys out eventually, if they haven't already. My Da's been hearin' stuff. He tells me a lot about wha's goin' on w' the Polygons, an' there's a growin' feelin' that unrest amongst th' Lessers is growin'. It's not jus' you guys... it's other folks. _Adults_ who are feelin' like they want change."

Bill paused and turned his Shape fully towards Alistair so he could see his friend's expression better. "I figured," he said slowly, "I, uh, have been wanting to get in contact with others. We've been puttin' out feelers ourselves. Through adults we trust."

"Like Joseph?"

"Uh huh," Bill said. "He's been involved with stuff like this since he was in University. He _knows_ people too. He wants _us_ to help change things."

Alistair was tense. "I... don't know if I'd trus' tha' guy t' be honest, Bill," he said with an effort. "Somethin' about him... I-I jus'... don't know. I- I can ask m' Da about him if y' want me to."

Bill tilted his angle, silent a long moment, considering Alistair's words.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Do it. We can't afford to be caught." He sighed and sat down opposite Alistair. It was kind of a shock, that he _trusted_ Alistair, a guy he'd only really known a couple months now, _more_ than the Librarian who had been with the school for nearly half a year.

"Okay," Alistair said. "I, uh... I jus'... well, I _worry_ about you. About the Club. About all of us. I mean, I don't like th' state th' world is in, I _hate_ it. B-but I don't want to, to... _lose_ you-- you guys I mean."

Bill _stared_ at him a long, tense moment.

"Alistair?"

"Yes?"

"Are you _sure_ you _really_ mean--"

"Ach, Bill, I'm no good at this kinda thing," Alistair said with a deep flush and another sigh. "Yeah, I do actually but it's not what I was _really_ meanin' jus' now. I-I don't wanna lose _you_. Okay? There, I said it. I don't wanna lose _you_. I _like_ you, Bill. A-a _lot_. Not just as a _friend_ either." He looked down at his feet. "You probably think I'm _crazy_ , or weird, o-or--"

"Shut up, Alistair," Bill snapped, a bit more harshly than he'd meant to. It sent a wince through the other Shape's frame and Bill felt just _that_ bit worse for it. "I mean, be quiet a moment." He got up, walked over to Alistair and put a hand on his back. Gently. "I don't think yer crazy. At all. I like you too."

Alistair looked up, eye wide and shimmering gray. "Y-y' _serious_?"

"Yeah," Bill said quietly. "I kinda felt the same for... uh, kinda since I _met_ you."

"With Nan around?" Alistair said, "I mean, she's pretty great."

"She's my _friend_ , Alistair. And yeah, sure she is. For a Line. But I never really thought of her like that. I, uh, guess I never did. About any Line."

"You're not into females?"

"I don't know," Bill said, honestly. "I guess. Maybe it's just Lines. I really don't know. They're just so... straight." He sat next to Alistair, confused. "Y'know. _Linear._ I met plenty of them who are great otherwise, nice, smart, fun to hang out with but... I always _wondered_ why other Shapes thought they were, uh..." He sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Haven't you ever wondered about third dimensional creatures? I mean ones with _dimension_? Solids? Maybe they're attractive too?" He grumbled. The last thing he'd meant to do was start babbling about this kind of stuff.

"Yeah, actually me too," Alistair said, looking at him. "I wonder a lot."

Bill flushed. He liked the way Alistair was gazing at him with that cloudy, soft gray eye. It was warm, affectionate. Nobody had ever looked at him like that--

_Well, except Nan._

"But I like _you_ and you're _here_ , right now," Bill murmured, gazing back. 

"An' we're alone," Alistair said softly. "Where nobody's gonna catch us when I do this--"

He leaned towards Bill, eye fluttering closed. Bill's own eye closed as well as Alistair kissed him.

It was tentative at first, then as they both relaxed into each other, it was soft, gentle... and it only became even more exciting the longer they did it.

It was the first of many that night.

It was the first of many new things Alistair would teach him that night.


	3. Remember Arthur Square

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The History Club plans their first protest against the tyranny of the Circles.

_Junior Year, Summer_

The Ruins were Bill and Alistair's own special place. So much so that when the Club held secret meetings there, Bill had begun to feel as though they were _invaders_ in his own private sanctum. It was an irritating feeling but it wasn't as alien as he'd initially thought. There was something growing inside him, something strange that made him feel almost _superior_ to these kids he considered his friends. He _was_ superior. He knew that. He'd known he was superior to most anyone around him most of his life but his own research into psychology had managed to make him at least somewhat contrite about that. It was natural for him, as intelligent as he was, a _genius_ , to feel mentally superior to anyone who wasn't as clever as he was.

Over the last several months, the more he got to know Alistair, the closer they became, the more Bill began to find himself irritated by the _lack_ of intelligence in those around him. Only a couple of weeks ago, he'd had an argument with his father over what Bill perceived as Karol's compliancy toward the inequality of the Circles' regime.

"You're _spineless_!" Bill shouted at his father that day. "You sit and agree with me but you never _do_ anything! If you hate this as much as I do, why don't you try and change things?"

"Because, my son, I _can't_ ," Karol said quietly. "I'm too old, too _afraid_. I haven't much but what I have, I don't want to _lose_. You and your mother. Son, you don't realize, they could _still_ take you away from us. We--" he sighed. "We _can't_ lose you too."

Bill angrily grumbled under his breath but he didn't shout back. He _stared_ at his father. He didn't know his birth parents, he didn't _want_ to know them. Karol and Louisa were the only parents he knew, the only parents he _wanted_. To see the man he'd looked up to his entire life, the man who raised him and gave him all his love, who risked his job to let Bill play the piano after hours at the music store, to see him so defeated, so afraid, just stoked the anger rising inside him.

"Father--"

"William Sifras, you're so much _more_ than I could ever be. Your mother and I would like to think we had something to do with that but we're not stupid. We know you've always been _more_ , always been more clever, more passionate, more _driven_ than we are, than we _taught_ you to be. You're a driving _force_ , unstoppable, no matter what stands in your way. You always were. You always _will_ be." He sighed softly. " _We_ can't change things. But maybe, Bill, maybe _you_ can do it for us. In fact, I _know_ you can."

That snapped Bill out of his fury.

It would be the last time for a very long time, that anyone would have the power to defuse a Bill Cipher rage.

***

A relationship like Bill and Alistair's was somewhat _unusual_ in their society. Not terribly common but not as uncommon as people might think given the strict societal guidelines their society imposed upon them. Young Shapes and Lines were forced to pair off for procreation purposes once they were post Inspection age so innocent flirtation wasn't much of a threat. If they'd decided to pursue a relationship into adulthood, _that_ would have been considered a problem.

Bill and Alistair had no intention of bowing to a State Sanctioned arranged marriage once they graduated Secondary, though. Of course, no adult knew that and they _wouldn't_ know, as long as the boys kept the truth of their friendship between themselves. Well, between themselves and their closest friends and family.

It bothered Bill a bit. Only because his parents knew and loved Alistair and he didn't want this to put his parents in any kind of suspicious spotlight, particularly after that conversation with his father. He'd do _anything_ to protect them... except break up with Alistair. His parents wouldn't want that, anyway.

Alistair's father, the occasional times Bill actually _saw_ the man, was as open and friendly with him as his own parents were with Alistair. He didn't mind the relationship either but Bill supposed the elder Square had a bit more 'social armor' than the poor Sifras family did. Even so, just their association with the Kendricks provided a nominal amount of protection for the Sifras'. More than they might have had otherwise.

As it was, the State Social Union Ministry was beginning to prepare the young Shapes for their eventual Pairings. Senior year in Secondary would have a considerable amount of time dedicated to ensuring the best pairings 'For The Betterment of Tomorrow'. Bill and Alistair were on the list as were most of the older members of the History Club. Upon their seventeenth birthdays, Shapes and Lines were required to report to the SSUM to register for Pairing.

Once the final Spring Inspection was completed, the culled would be removed from the registry and the Pairings would begin. By graduation, it was expected that most of the graduating class would be engaged, either willingly or unwillingly.

Alistair was extremely nervous about this. As the date of his seventeenth birthday approached, he became even more inconsolable to the point where Bill found himself at a loss for how to help his boyfriend. Kisses and 'cuddling' worked for a while but even that became only a temporary respite for the boy.

Alistair, Bill knew, was deathly afraid of the blood test. He didn't like doctors or anything even resembling a medical examination. Bill figured, rightly, that this was because of the tragedy that happened to his sister on her final Inspection but he couldn't even get Alistair to _talk_ about his fears.

This only made Bill that much more angry at the entire system that forced this kind of thing on the people of Flatland.

"It's fucked up!" Bill spat, one evening as they sat together in the lab of the Ruins, alone together, reading and cuddling and trying to distract themselves from the looming Registration for both of them. "We should be able to do what we want!"

"Bill! Keep your voice down!" Alistair said, anxiously looking around them.

"There's no one here!" Bill shouted, his voice taking on a slight, almost hysterical edge to it, which sent his tone up to a sharp, squeaky register. He began to pace in front of Alistair, seething.

Alistair sighed. "Yelling isn't gonna make anything any better. An' it's just upsettin' you. You're not gonna operate t' yer full capacity if you're distracted by anger." He took a deep breath. "Y' shouldn't be yellin', y' _should_ be plottin'. Think about it, how can you _change_ things?"

Bill shot him a dark look. He was _right_ but it didn't help when Alistair was trying to be logical, even with as scared as he was. "Dammit," he snapped, "why do you always have to be so _logical_ when I'm so pissed off?"

He dropped onto a stone next to where Alistair was sitting.

"Someone's got to," Alistair said. "I'm sure y'can think of somethin'."

"We just won't do it," Bill grumbled. "Refuse."

"I don't think that'll work," Alistair said cautiously. "Maybe... maybe we should get the other kids--"

"To refuse, too!" Bill said, eye widening. "Protest! Form a peaceful protest! If we just protest but don't do anything else, they _can't_ hurt us! Right?"

"I don't know--"

"Yeah, yeah. That's what we'll do. They can't hurt a bunch of kids for just saying no."

Alistair fell quiet.

Bill was completely involved in his own plotting to notice how quiet his boyfriend had become. "We'll get the Club together and just sit down and refuse to register when they come to us. Just... peacefully. The only time they ever use force is if someone uses force first, right? We're _kids_ , they can't hurt kids!"

"Well..."

Bill looked at him. "Alistair? What?"

"What about at Inspection?"

"Yeah, but they don't do it in _public_. If we're _public_ , and they hurt us, they look like child-bashers. And it looks bad for them." He nodded to his own statement. Bill was on a roll and nobody could stop him now. "Trust me, Alistair, the last thing the Circles want is to look bad to the public. We get signs, just refuse to register and sit down. Then we can give our message: we don't want the government to tell us who we can marry. It's _genius_!"

Alistair reached out and put a hand on Bill's.

"You'd do this for me? Just so I don't have to get a blood test?"

Bill blinked and looked back at him.

"Of course, I would, Alistair," he said simply, "I love you."

Alistair's eye went wide at about the same time as Bill realized what he'd said.

"Y-you do?" Alistair whispered.

"Uh huh," Bill said slowly.

"You mean it? You don't want to take it back? If you do, I understand..." His voice sounded tentative, a touch of hope and sadness in it. "You, you don't know what you're saying, Bill--"

As Alistair babbled, the depth and _truth_ of what Bill had just said sank in.

"Shh," he said to the Rhomboid, "shh..."

He leaned in and kissed him.

"I don't _ever_ want to take it back."

***

"You really think this will work?" Dan said as he and Nan sat with Bill in the main chamber of the Ruins. "They won't try and shut us up?"

"They _can't_ ," Bill said, "not if we're completely peaceful and don't make any kind of threatening moves. They try and they look like the bad guys." He frowned and looked at Alistair. "And anyway, I'm willing to be roughed up if it means the Circles look like a bunch of kid-bashing creeps. If nothin' else, I'll take the heat for it. They _won't_ hurt us. Trust me."

"What about your parents, Bill?" Alistair said softly. "If they try an' harm y', they might decide to look at yer folks."

"I'm not gonna incite anything," Bill said. "All I want to do is show them they can't bully us into doing what we don't wanna do. I'm just saying that if they look like they wanna hurt someone, they can hurt _me_. I'll protect my people if it's the last thing I do. And anyway, it's my idea, I should be a big enough Shape to take the blame if they wanna dish it on someone."

Nan put a hand on Dan's. "I think we should do it," she said. "If it means that--"

Bill's eye widened a little.

Dan sighed and patted the Line's slender hand back. "Yeah, if it means we can be together too."

Alistair's own eye curved a little in a soft smile. "You guys never--?"

"Uh huh," Dan said. "We just know we're not gonna be Paired. I guess, just like you guys."

Bill chuckled softly. "Guess you got a good reason now as well."

"And I think the other kids will too," Nan said. "Nobody wants to be Paired off with someone they don't know--or like. It's just as much of a scare to them as it is to you. It's an antequated tradition and it doesn't help anything anyway. Sides aren't determined by pairing anymore. Even the Circles have got to know this. It's 'inbreeding' at its worst. And history shows that kind of thing just makes things worse. We need diversity in Pairing. Maybe if we get to pick our mates, more sides for our children will become a regular thing again. Or if it doesn't, then that's not the way our people should be evolving."

"Ugh!" Bill groaned, "Don't say 'evolving'. They hate words like that, 'cause it means that growth is _natural_ rather than determined by the Circles."

"But it's true!" Nan said, "Species improve themselves by evolution, by adapting and growing and becoming more and greater than they currently are."

"And the Circles want things _their_ way," Alistair said. "Which isn't right."

Bill grumbled. "Yeah, Alistair. They have to learn they can't control people. They can't just say 'that's the way it is' and expect us to _believe_ them. Not anymore."

"Not ever," Dan said with a sigh. "There's always been people who haven't liked what the Circles say. Remember Arthur Square."

"Remember Arthur Square," the other three said softly, almost as though it were a mantra. 

They looked at each other.

They'd never done that before and it felt like a significant moment to Bill. "Yeah," he said, "We _should_ remember him. What he did, what he learned, what he _gave_ us. There are three dimensions, color should be allowed in our world and there are beings who _want_ us to grow and become greater than we are, even _if_ they're not gods." He shrugged. "Maybe there _are_ no gods. Just higher, three dimensional beings who are benevolent and want to help us."

Alistair sighed deeply.

"Yeah," he said in a soft, almost dejected voice. "Maybe. Just maybe..."

Bill looked at him. His boyfriend was slumped, sad.

And he could have _sworn_ he'd muttered under his breath:

_Maybe not._


	4. A Still Tongue Makes A Happy Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill's life changes when a sudden raid devastates his small village and he finds out what he's capable of doing in the face of betrayal.

The protest went well, considering.

Alistair wasn't there.

Even Bill didn't know where he was, except that something had happened the night before at the Kendrick's mansion, something that involved the local Militia and the Prefect himself. 

He'd called the house but no answer.

Dan had gone over to check it out, as surreptitiously as he could, considering he was a Square and would look less out of place in Alistair's neighborhood. But he learned nothing short of the fact that he _thought_ Alistair's father was being arrested.

That scared all of them.

They staged their protest anyway, Bill insisting that Alistair would have wanted them to but their spirit wasn't in it. They'd gone to the Registrar, sat down outside with their signs and quietly refused to be registered for Pairing, even after the Militia threatened all of them with jail, which Bill knew they wouldn't follow through on.

And the Militia really didn't. Nobody, not even the police that had been called to 'take care' of the kids, really seemed to _want_ to be there.

The Kendrick situation had thrown everyone in the Prefecture, even the Isosceles Militia patrolmen. 

In the end, Bill and his friends ended up talking with the Isosceles a little bit and, he thought, possibly making contacts with a couple of them. Redd, one of the younger policemen, was smarter than he looked and seemed to think the kids had every right to do what they were doing, even if it was breaking the rules.

"I gotta arrest you if you guys start getting violent," he told Bill, "but I don't think anyone wants to fight right now. Ya know?"

"We don't want to get violent," Bill said, "there's no point in that. We just want to be clear about how we feel. We don't want to be married off to people we don't know or love. I think that's logical, don't you?"

"Sure," Redd said, "if I was you, I wouldn't wanna be married to someone I don't like either. Just, with us, we don't get a choice either. Except it's not like it is for you guys, being Registered and getting some time to get to know a few people they pick for you. Us Isosceles, we just get stuck with some random Line, outta the gray." He shrugged. "I haven't been but that could change tomorrow. I could wake up and be told to report to the Social Union office for Pairing."

"I'm sure sorry about that," Bill said with a shrug. "I guess we all have problems with the way things can be sometimes, huh?"

"Yup," Redd said, glancing towards the Registrar office. "Hey, this place is closing. I'll try to put in a good word for you guys okay? Try to keep yer names out of the records. My word ain't worth much but I'm gonna try."

Bill sighed and nodded his apex. "Thanks, friend," he said. "I guess it didn't really make much difference, did it?"

"You never know," Redd said. "I mean, sure, you guys didn't get forced to Register _today_ , but I'm not gonna say it won't happen again. You probably aren't going to change anything. People have tried the same thing in the past. If you keep protesting, you're going to get attention. And maybe attention you won't end up liking." He tipped his angle towards Bill. "I mean, I understand, I really do. Not trying to threaten you guys, kid, but just trying to warn you. You look like a bunch of _good_ kids. Just think about it, okay? Sometimes being _safe_ is more important than being _right_."

He gathered his fellow Militia men and they headed off, back to the station.

Bill sighed.

"Out of the mouths of Isosceles, eh?" he said to Dan. "Maybe we should go see if Alistair's okay?"

"Yeah," Nan said, getting to her feet. "And he's right. We're gonna have to keep doing this if we don't want to be forced to Register someday."

"So we will," Bill said, and Dan nodded.

"I guess it's just going to show who's got more longevity, us or them," Dan said. "Me, I'll keep doing it."

"Yeah," Bill said, "me too."

***

The three of them made their way to Alistair's house, as the evening was falling flat across the world. With Dan in the lead, they didn't get many odd looks from people as they came closer to the small mansion Alistair and his father shared with their servants.

It was dark, quiet. A flat gray expanse in front of their vision.

Bill felt a kind of strange, creepiness come over him, the closer they got to the place.

Dan knocked at Alistair's front door once, twice. Three times.

After the third knock, the door slowly, cautiously, slid open.

A Line stood there, one of the Kendricks' young maids.

"Can I help you?" she whispered, her voice shaking.

"It's Dan, Bill and Nan to see Alistair," Dan said, "is he here? What happened?"

The girl seemed like she was on the verge of tears. "Oh, y-yes, Master Alistair is here. Come in, quickly. I-I'll tell him you're here."

"Is he okay?" Bill blurted out. "Is he--?"

"He's alright," she said. "Let me get him." She hurried out, a shaky, tear-soaked peace cry echoing behind her as she went into the greater part of the house.

Nan winced at the sound. She _hated_ having to make such a sound every time she entered or exited a room with Shapes in it.

"Bill?" Alistair's voice almost echoed in the main room as he came rushing into the sitting room where the three friends waited. "And Dan? And Nan?"

"What happened?" Bill said, running over to him and hugging him tightly. "We were all so scared--"

"They came and got my Da," Alistair said with a cough. "The Prefect got arrested and they arrested all of his people, including my..."

"Oh god," Nan whispered. "Why? Do you know? Will they let your dad go?"

"I think so," Alistair said softly. "He's got a perfect record. It's why he got th' job here but they suspect the Prefect of... _hiding_ information about Subversives... But he _didn't_." He swallowed hard and looked at the three Figures in front of him. "Someone is trying to start a witch-hunt in our Prefecture. He's innocent. I'm sure of it."

Bill frowned, looking at his feet.

The Prefect was a pretty good leader, people really had very few bad things to say about him. He tried to be as fair as he could. And Alistair's 'Da' was a good man as well... besides being one of the very Subversives the Circles were trying to find. Just as Alistair and Nan and Dan and... _himself_ were.

He sighed. He wondered if they'd been responsible at all for Alistair's dad getting in trouble. Or the Prefect.

"Do you think they--"

"No," Alistair said softly. "They're just hunting for things they _want_ to find. I don't think they actually expect to _find_ anything. If they _did_ , god, I don't even know what they'd do."

"Your dad's gonna come back, right?" Daniel said, "and the Prefect?"

"I sure hope so," Nan chimed in.

"Maybe we shouldn't protest for a while," Bill heard himself say. "Until we're sure Alistair's dad and the Prefect are okay."

"Yeah," Dan said. "Just until then."

***

Alistair's father did return the next day, roughed up and angry. And, even though Alistair didn't say as much to Bill: _terrified_.

Because the Prefect _didn't_.

Weeks went by and the Prefect didn't return.

The assistant Prefect took charge in his absence, things in the village didn't change much but everyone was waiting to hear.

The longer the silence continued, the more concerned the village became.

The Registrar stayed closed the entire time and Senior year began as normal but nobody spoke about the absence of the Prefect.

Eventually, the school began to make plans for Late Registration for Pairing, about the same time that the Fall Festival was announced. They decided to create a Holiday for Registration, mixed in with the Festival activities, to try and drum up enthusiasm for Pairing and Romance in the School.

And still, no word about the Prefect.

Alistair's anxiety didn't seem to resurge, however. His anger towards the government _did_.

One very late evening, past midnight, Bill heard a tap at his bedroom window. 

"Alistair?"

"Let's go to the Ruins," he whispered.

"Okay."

Bill switched off his bedroom light and crawled through the window, to be immediately engulfed in Alistair's tight hug. A kiss was pressed to his closed eye.

"C'mon..."

Quickly, they ran into the forest, to the Ruins.

Once they were in their beloved secret alchemy lab, Alistair sat Bill down on one of the rocks they'd made into a cozy snuggly sofa and settled beside him.

"What is it, Alistair?"

"The Prefect was executed," he whispered, without preamble. "A day ago. By the Chief Circle himself."

Bill gaped at him, eye huge and shocked.

"Vyraius Cerchio?" Bill gasped.

"Yeah, personally," Alistair said softly, frowning. "Turns out, the guy _likes_ executing convicted Subversives himself."

"But he didn't _do_ anything!"

"I know," Alistair said sadly. "But the rest of the country doesn't know that. And he had to be made an _example_. That's what Da told me. He also asked me to tell you: _be careful_. They're looking at us _hard_ now. Everyone in his office is being watched." He swallowed hard. "We're getting a new Prefect, a _Circle_. They _actually_ suspect there's something going on here now. I don't know how but I'm _terrified_ someone knows about us."

"We haven't _done_ anything, Alistair!" Bill said, "there must be _someone_ else that's doing something here!"

"The school librarian," Alistair said softly. "What about him? I didn't trust him from the first time I met him."

"Joseph Secant."

"Yeah, that Square that works in the library. What if _he's_ telling people about us? A-about other Subversives? O-or what if _he's_ th' one they're lookin' for?"

Bill frowned.

"Then I think it's time I find out for sure," he said darkly.

"Bill! No!"

"I'm the only one who can," Bill said, "and I'm the only one I'd risk on a mission like this."

***

"Heya, Joseph," Bill said casually, one day after school. "Can I talk to ya for a minute?"

He was leaning in the doorway of the Librarian's storage room and break area.

The Square was pulling books out of a box and setting them on a trolley to take out to the main library. He paused and looked up, smiling at Bill.

"William, sure. Always nice to see such an avid reader."

"Sure thing," Bill said, slipping inside and closing the door behind him. He offered a friendly, smooth grin. "Say, whatcha got there?"

" _History of Flatland_ for the Freshman class. New books. Got a lot of new books recently since they installed the new Prefect. Seems they're wanting kids to have new supplies for once."  
"Yeah, great," Bill said. Behind his Shape, he flipped the lock closed. "I gotta question for ya. And I'm super curious about the answer."

"Sure, anything for my best student," Joseph said.

"You like the new Prefect?"

Joseph paused. "I guess. He's a Circle."

"Yeah. Funny that. Circles, bein' interested in our little backwater town. Wonder why that is?"

"Cause of what happened with the last Prefect?" Joseph sighed and his angles slumped a little.

It looked contrived to Bill, who was better than most at subterfuge. It only made him more certain _he_ was right. That _Alistair_ had been right about this Square from the beginning.

"Yeah, guy was convicted of a crime he _didn't_ commit," Bill said coolly. "Wonder why _anyone_ would think _that guy_ would do anything wrong."

"He could have been guilty," Joseph said, "anyway, they caught _him_. Not anyone else."

"You think there's anyone around here they'd be interested in?"

"Besides your History Club?"

"We just _talk_ , you know that. And who's gonna think much about a bunch of High School kids?"

Joseph looked at him a long moment. "You'd be surprised, Bill," he said. "You kids did try to protest the Pairing. People _notice_ that kind of thing."

This was stupid.

"You know what? I _don't_ believe you don't know anything _else_ about that," he said bluntly. "Just like I _don't_ believe you're in our corner when it comes to the Circles. _You're_ the leak. _You're_ the one who pointed fingers at the Prefect and his people. What I wonder is," Bill approached the shocked Square, " _why_ you didn't squeal on _us_."

Joseph stared back at him.

"Bill! I'd never!"

"Yeah?" Bill snapped, "now _why_ don't I _believe_ that?"

"Back off, William Sifras," Joseph said coolly, "you and your silly little History Club friends are walking a thin line. You're right when you say that _right now_ , nobody cares about you because you're kids. But _I_ know better. And yeah, I _have_ been watching you. And yeah, I _did_ tell the Circles about the Prefect and his men. There are _Subversives_ in this community besides _you_ and it's my job to find it and report it."

"Why?" Bill said, stepping closer.

"Because it's only a matter of time before you _could_ be a threat, is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yeah, actually I _did_ want to hear that," Bill said in a thin, slightly higher-pitched tone. In anyone else, it might have been laughable. In Bill's naturally higher pitched tone, it held just the slightest hint of _insanity_. Which was enough to make Joseph pause. "'Cause, lemme tell ya, _pal_ , I don't like it. And I have no intention of letting _anyone_ snitch on my _friends_."

"What are you going to do about it, Sifras?" Joseph said, his own voice leveling out and taking on a threatening tone, "You're a _kid_. Ya gonna _shut me up_?"

"I'll tell ya," Bill said, his brain spinning a mile a minute. He hadn't expected to get this far and learn this much but now, actual _real_ betrayal was staring him in the eye and his choices were few. "I think it's about time to make sure I do what I always said I would and _protect my friends_."

He curled one thin-fingered hand into a tight fist and in an instant, swung, slamming his fist squarely in the Librarian's eye.

The punch knocked the Square back, against the stack of full book boxes behind him, which tumbled down, crashing into the Shape's frame. The man cried out as his angles broke under the weight but Bill didn't let that stop him.

Coldly, Bill didn't allow any other emotion to overcome the seething anger that burned through him as he advanced on the older man and continued to pound his sharp little fists into the weakly fighting Shape until the man was unconscious, bleeding on the floor.

He stood over Joseph, panting, fists covered with gray Flatlander blood, staring at the broken Square, mulling over his next move.

Was he capable of killing this Shape?

Yes. He had no doubt that he was.

Had he ruined his precious, piano-playing fingers beating the man to a pulp?

They hurt but he didn't think so.

He'd punched properly, protecting his hands, just the way he'd learned from years of reading and studying _everything_ he could find.

If he allowed this Square to live, what would he do? Would he betray them to the Circles? Could he take that chance?

What was one life versus all the innocent kids in the Club? The man deserved to die for what he'd done already. If he let him go, how many more people would die because of him?

So he did the only thing he could think of.

He kicked Joseph, just to make sure he stayed out, went to the phone on the librarian's desk and called Alistair.

***

"You did _what_?" Alistair gasped over the phone. "Bill! This is a _public_ line! Shit... jus'... just wait there. I'll-I'll do what I can t' _fix_ this an'... I'll be right there. Uh... keep th' guy unconscious..."  
Bill set down the phone.

He had no idea what Alistair meant when he said he'd 'fix this' but at this point, he had to trust him.

Walking back over to the Square, _Joseph Secant_ , the stool-pigeon of the Circles, Bill looked at him.

Even now, after he'd cooled down a bit, he still didn't regret this. It didn't even seem to have _any_ effect on him, which absently, he thought was kind of odd. It was probably due to the fact that the guy _was_ a villain, an evil snitch that had caused the death of an innocent man, the torture and beating of a handful of other innocents, including Alistair's father and would have turned over a bunch of kids, his _friends_ , to the Circles as well.

" _Bill_!"

Bill quickly went to the store room door and opened it. Alistair slipped inside and Bill re-locked the door.

The Rhomboid stared at the mess of the Librarian, still lying, very much out, on the floor, still bleeding a little. He was silent a long moment, which Bill hadn't expected from the normally emotional boy.

"Okay," Alistair said finally, quietly, coldly, "this is what we gotta do..."

***

It had taken far too long for Bill's taste but between the two of them they'd managed to cover the unconscious Square with a spare packing blanket and load him on one of the library trolleys.

Together, they snuck the guy out through the back, through the small warehouse behind the library, where the boxes of books were kept along with other supplies and equipment the school used on a day to day basis. Since the school was nearly empty by the time they got the Square situated, they didn't encounter anyone, even the janitor, as they wheeled him through the storage room and out the delivery entrance. After that, they loaded him into an old wheeled trash cart Alistair had parked in the back driveway. Bill didn't ask where Alistair got it but he didn't care. Tossing an old coat to Bill, Alistair threw one over himself as well and together, they pulled the trash cart down the alley, into the back streets of the village and towards the forest, where the Ruins were.

The Square groaned softly as the cart bumped over the rocks and dirt.

"Not th' Ruins," Alistair growled under his breath but Bill heard him. "Further. I know a place."

They were going to either dump him or kill him, Bill realized. And he was pretty sure the latter was what Alistair had in mind.

It was the same idea that Bill had.

And it still didn't even _begin_ to bother Bill.

That should have been his first warning.


	5. Music Makes A Quiet Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Alistair approach their last few months as Seniors and Alistair's father makes Bill an offer...

Bill was different.

Since that day in the fall, he wasn't a kid any longer. Everyone could see the change in the Triangle. His family and teachers assumed it was due to the mysterious disappearance of the Librarian, since Bill was known to be such a lover of books and everyone knew he'd been friends with the man.

The body had been found, eventually, in the woods far outside the town. By then, it had been several months since his disappearance. When it finally came out that the Librarian had been beaten and eventually killed in the forest, people were shocked and worried.

There'd been an Official Investigation into the death but whomever had killed him had been quite thorough. They'd cleaned up well after themselves and there had been very little evidence as to who had, or what had happened to cause it. By the time the body had been discovered, there wasn't much left.

A call had been made from the Librarian's office the afternoon he'd disappeared but to whom or who had _made_ the call was a mystery as well. The recording of the call had been nothing but static.

Bill retreated from the History Club for the most part. He kept in touch with his friends, Daniel and Nancy and a few others from the Club but he and Alistair stopped attending regular meetings. Those had been moved to an empty History classroom that had been given to them after school.

The two of them were still at any meetings held at the Ruins but even those had dwindled to occasional get-togethers every month or so.

Dan reported that fewer and fewer people were attending and a general current of fear had become prevalent amongst those members who still came. They talked more about history now and rarely discussed anything 'subversive' except in the Ruins.

So Bill, for the most part, threw himself into his music. Besides his increasingly deep relationship with Alistair, it was the only thing that kept him sane. He continued his secret education as he always had, perhaps even more-so now than ever. He practiced daily at Alistair's house, teaching his boyfriend to play until the Rhomboid was nearly as good as he was. But not quite.

_Nobody_ was as talented as Bill was.

"You should look into music as a career, young man," Alistair's father said one evening as he passed by the music room.

"I can't," Bill said flatly. "I'm a _proper_ Triangle."

"I think you could," Alistair's father said, "and still maintain your reputation. It might even _help_ your family if you did."

"I can't be _allowed_ to be an _Entertainer_ ," Bill said acidly, frowning.

"If I were to sponsor you, you could. Even the Circles will allow the _truly_ talented to perform. And with my backing, I could keep you _safe_."

Bill looked up at the man. "You'd risk--"

"It's no risk," he said. "You have a gift."

It was confusing to the young Triangle. He'd only ever been taught that being a Performer of any kind wasn't a _decent_ profession for Triangles. Only Squares could be anything _close_ to what he wished he could be: a concert pianist. _Respectable_ performers.

Varien Kendrick, Esquire, Alistair's father, sat down in a chair next to his son. "William," he said gently, "I cannot let a talent like yours stagnate and _die_ behind a counter. It would be a sin against art, against _nature_. I know of many other people who would feel the same. My son tells me you _compose_ as well. It's not _radical_ to encourage the arts."

The two boys winced at the word.

Varien sighed. "We're _safe_ here, boys. I know what you think. I know what you have done. And I believe the best way to make the Circles aware of the strength of Shapes is to show them that _all_ people are talented. And Circles, well, they're _patrons_ of the arts. Perhaps it's the one thing they're doing right." He tilted his eye towards Bill, since his Shape was flat on top, it was an odd expression. "You're a genius. It's also good to see that the strength in your fingers is still intact."

Bill glanced at Alistair.

The Rhomboid just shook his angle a little. 

No, Alistair hadn't told his father what they'd done.

But Bill _knew_ that indeed, Varien did know.

"Is it really possible, sir?" Bill asked, his voice soft, trembling with hope.

"Yes, young man," Varien said. "And if you will allow my help--"

"YES PLEASE!" Bill cried, his voice pitching up and cracking hard. He nearly burst into tears, emotion flooding a body that had felt very little since the autumn. He leapt up and dropped to his knees in front of the Square. "Please, sir! I'll do anything!"

Varien laughed gently, standing and pulling Bill to his feet. "Oh my boy, you only need to continue to play and practice and compose and be as _brilliant_ as you are. You don't need to beg me. In fact, I'd rather you didn't."

Alistair was flushing, fidgeting as though he couldn't make up his mind whether or not to cover his eye with his hands.

"I'm a peaceful man," Varien said. "I'm not my son, nor you, William. I couldn't do the things you have done. I admire your strength and fortitude. That said, I want to see change as much as you do but I believe the best way to protest is by _example_. We need to show the Circles what we are really like. I have to believe once they _see_ someone like you, Bill, it _will_ change their minds. It _must_." He sighed. "I only ask one thing of you, William."

"Yes?"

"Let _me_ protect you from now on. Don't take matters into your own hands _again_."

Bill swallowed hard.

"Yes, sir," he said softly. "I'm your servant."

Varien shook his shape slightly. "No, you're not. You're my son's best friend--his _boyfriend_. And because of that, Billy Sifras, I consider you my son and your family, _my_ family." He took a deep breath. "And also because of that, taking you under my wing as your patron, I can protect both of you from Pairing. Since you will now be considered entered into a higher level profession and Pairing will only divert your focus. Alistair will now be your agent and arranger, which will protect him as well."

"What?" both boys said at the same time.

"It's commonly done with Square performers and I will make sure it's legal with you, William. Remember, I'm a lawyer. I know the law, even at its' most obscure. Besides, when those who might question my judgment _hear_ you... they will shut their big eyes." He smiled with his own. "And we will make sure _everyone_ hears you, William. _Everyone_."

"But Father, I'm no agent. I-I can't _arrange_ music."

"They don't need to know that. It's not their business."

"Yes, sir."

Bill wobbled on his feet, trying not to faint. This was too much, it was _impossible_ to even fathom. It had to be a dream. The _best_ dream he'd ever had. One he'd never imagined would be _real_.

"Sir..."

"Say, would you boys like some ice cream? We have cinnamon, chocolate and Alistair's favorite."

"Mint chocolate chip?" Alistair was almost giggling. He sounded giddy.

"Yes, I had Risa buy some for you earlier. I was thinking you and Bill might enjoy some ice cream and coffee this evening." He chuckled softly.

_He'd planned this whole thing._

Bill smiled a little. "That sounds good," he said. "I should call my folks though and tell 'em I'll be late."

"Already did, my boy," Varien said. "I thought you might like to stay the night and they said that would be fine."

Bill and Alistair looked at each other.

"Did you tell them this? What you just said?"

Varien chuckled. "You're just as quick as ever, William. Yes, I discussed this with them before I told you what I'd had in mind. They both agreed that if it was something you wanted to do, they were more than happy to support you, with my patronage."

Bill stared.

_His parents..._ agreed _?_

He blinked and a wave of love for his parents welled up inside him and he did cry then. Great, angle-shuddering sobs erupted out of him and he had to sit down because his legs refused to hold him up.

Alistair's arm went around him and squeezed hard.

"Come on into the kitchen when you're ready, boys," Varien said, his voice seeming to come from a distance. It was touched with warmth, affection. The voice of a proud father.

***

Bill moved in with the Kendricks that Spring, shortly before Senior graduation, with his parents' blessings.

Varien moved quickly, setting up several recording sessions for Bill as the boys studied for their Senior finals. By the time Graduation rolled around, Bill already was booked for a concert at the end of the week, right after the Graduation ceremony. 

Circles would be there, including the new Prefect.

It was an ambitious first outing for Bill but he'd gotten to it with a solid, positive reception. Even his teachers, those who told him they'd never allow a Triangle from their school to enter such a profession had changed their tune when they saw how well the 'cute little Triangle who could play the piano' was being accepted in the Prefecture. Sure, he was a novelty but his skill was the thing that made people think twice about calling him a degenerate.

He _only_ played technically impressive Classical pieces, nothing too modern or outrageous and thus far, none of his own compositions.

That would come _later_ , when people realized how talented he really _was_.

***

The evening of the concert was lovely, warm but with a soft cool breeze that just made everything that much more sociable.

Varien had decided on a summery, open-air venue, in the upper districts of the village, where the Polygons would be more comfortable mixing with the Lower Shapes without undue distress.

Certainly it wasn't perfect but even Bill was feeling a bit more relaxed than he usually would around the Higher Shapes. It helped to have Alistair and his father close to hand and his parents were allowed a comfortable, close and securely protected (read: _hidden_ ) seat near the stage. Bill felt safe. His family was safe, he was safe and he would only be presented to the Polygons later, if he should choose to be.

The Circle, whose name was Tveir Cyclonus, the new village prefect, had a place of honor in a box in the center of the audience, overlooking the stage. He was there with his Line and children, a couple of teen circles who didn't seem particularly excited or interested to be there.

They fidgeted while everyone waited for the concert to begin.

Tveir, however, was quiet, observing everything below him with the cool demeanor of an emperor, which to the small village, he was. He was dressed impeccably, in a black silk bow tie and top hat, like most Polygons of Status wore and he carried a black, crook-necked cane.

Bill found himself staring at the Circle, since this was the first time he'd actually _seen_ the man. He couldn't help wondering yet again, why a Circle of any status had been assigned to the Prefecture. He was certain it wasn't because of the disappearance of Joseph Secant, since that had happened after Tveir been installed. He wondered, just as he had been often of late, if there were indeed _others_ that had caught the Circles attention, just as Secant had hinted at.

If there were, Bill wondered if there was a way to contact them without attracting attention both to himself and to them.

He fidgeted as he waited to be called to the stage. A lovely, shiny black grand piano awaited him on that stage, a gift from Cyclonus to him, which also struck the young Triangle as strange.

_The Circles_ are _patrons of the arts_.

"Citizens of our lovely Prefecture, we're so proud to present a delightful experience this fine early summer evening," a Pentagon was saying, on stage, "one of our own, a little gem we didn't even know we had until recently, William Sifras, a young Triangle from Trikampis Village, will play the piano for us and welcome in a wonderful summer season!"

"Okay, Bill, go ahead," Alistair whispered and patted Bill's angle. "You're gonna be amazin'!" He leaned close, " _I love you._ "

Bill flushed and grinned back. "Yeah, they won't be able to help lovin' me."

He straightened his Shape and marched on stage, pride and arrogance radiating from him.

Applause, mostly considerate and somewhat confused, bloomed from the audience, which consisted mostly of Polygons, with a few of the more gentlemanly and professional Squares scattered throughout. The most respectable Triangles who'd been lucky enough to attend in person were seated in the back rows, while the rest, the commoners and the Isosceles were watching the concert on closed-circuit television broadcasts throughout the Prefecture and his own small village.

Even his own performance had been carefully planned to create unity throughout the Prefecture. He sighed to himself as he took his place behind the piano. No matter, he'd still show them what kind of a Triangle he was.

His first piece was one he'd selected himself, an impressive show of technicality and mastery of the instrument, something he _knew_ would send the Circles reeling. Perhaps it was his own form of defiance, the music.

He poured out everything he had into this first piece, knowing that he had an inexhaustible reserve of defiance for the remaining selections, knowing he'd _dazzle_ them into silence with his pure _mastery_ of the art form and the instrument.

He thrashed the music out of the keyboard, filling the auditorium with crashing waves of beautiful, powerful, mind-numbing, _passionate_ music.

When he'd finished that first piece, silence filled the auditorium.

_Stunned_ silence.

Even the Prefect's children had stopped their fidgeting and were staring, spellbound at the small Triangle on the stage.

Bill smiled to himself. 

It was all going according to plan.

Nearly a minute went by before the audience erupted into deafening applause.

Bill simply inclined his angle, modestly, though it took a concerted _effort_ to do so. He wanted to jump up and yell back at the crowd: _Yeah! Yeah! I AM the_ best _! You all know I'm the best! You love me! You all love_ me!

He rode the adulation a moment longer before he launched into the rest of his set, powerfully intoxicating the crowd with his mastery of the material to the point that he was nearly exhausted.

By the time he'd finished every single challenging, technically intricate piece of music, he was breathing hard, sweating and high with the outpouring of love and affection he _swore_ he was receiving from his audience. He could have gone on _forever_ , he was certain of it at this point, if his weak, mortal body had allowed him.

The Pentagon who'd been his announcer came back on stage, patting his shoulder after a slight moment's hesitation that only Bill caught.

"Come on boy," he said under his breath. "Come with me. Meet your fans."

Bill got up and accompanied the Pentagon to the front of the stage.

"There you have it!" the Pent announced into his microphone, "William Sifras, our own beloved Maestro of the Piano! Isn't he a wonder, ladies and gentleman? What a _unique_ young Triangle!"

The audience applauded and cheered, _politely_ , it almost seemed. They were all impressed but there was still a lingering sensation that became clearer to Bill the more he started to come down off his performance high.

He was still a novelty. He was 'cute'. Their enjoyment of his music was still tainted by the fact that he was in essence, a _performing dog_.

Bill frowned vaguely, glancing over to where Alistair waited in the wings.

"Say something to your adoring public, young man," the Pent said, pushing the microphone in front of his eye.

"Uh..." Bill began, then shook it off, "Thank you. It's sure been a lot of fun playing for y'all tonight." He straightened himself and tilted his angle slightly. "Yeah, folks! Hey! You think _this_ was great, just _wait_ until next time." He grinned at them. "This stuff wasn't even _nearly_ the hardest for me. It was _easy_! Compared to what I can _really_ do, this was just _amateur hour_! Lemme tell ya, I love ya folks, you all have been _great_!" He laughed, encouraging the crowd. "And guess what! This little concert really was a lotta fun for me but you know what, I've got a _lot_ more in mind to play for you good people if you'll let me... _trust me_ , folks..."

He grabbed the microphone, strode forward and pinned the Circle's eye with his own. " _YA AIN'T SEEN NOTHIN' YET!"_

With that, he dropped the microphone and strode off the stage, with the Pentagon staring in shock after him. 

The audience erupted into applause.


	6. Feel Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill Sifras, now a rising star, finds himself in the Capitol City and confronted by challenges, new and old.

_Winter, City of Pantocyclus, 'The Capitol'_

The Great Capitol City had been renamed after the First Family of Flatland, the ancestors of the current Chief Circle, Vyraius Cerchio, who traced his lineage to the Chief of Arthur Square's time. Since then, the country had progressed beyond the monarchy it had been into a more democratic government. Though the Chief Circle was now elected, he still was required to hail from one of the royal houses of old Flatland.

It was supposedly a better arrangement.

Anywhere else, it might have been.

***

Bill and Alistair were guests of the Cerchio family, staying in a sumptuous penthouse suite in the City, a place Bill had never imagined ever even setting foot in, let alone, _living_.

Of course the 'guests' part was a courtesy extended to all newcomers, all _important_ or _famous_ personages who visited. Bill supposed they fell into the 'famous' category, but _just_.

As far as he knew, Cerchio had never heard of him or if he had, he didn't _care_ , nor would he, unless he were able to be granted a performance for the Chief. They were here for that particular reason. Varien didn't ever do anything by halves, Bill had learned.

They wanted to make the Chief notice him and Varien's hope was that when he did, perhaps the Chief would reconsider his policies towards the Lesser Shapes, the non-Polygons. 

'Music Expands The Mind', Varien was fond of saying, so much so, that the slogan had become something of a catch-phrase with the three of them and their handlers.

Everywhere Bill went, he was winning fans and making friends. His skill with the piano and his engaging, friendly, cheerful personality was enough to make even some of the more stodgier of the Shapes he played for at least acknowledge the fact that Triangles might be a bit more intelligent and talented than they'd previously given them credit for.

Less a trained dog now, more an unusual oddity.

And as they'd traveled, they'd spoken with people. Some people approached them even, people who, they'd begun to discover, were sympathetic with their cause, in more ways than just 'the joys of music'.

They'd kept their small but growing group of 'open-minded friends' to themselves. The last thing either of them wanted was to implicate Alistair's father, nor Bill's parents in their quiet sedition.

Bill, as he discovered, was indeed right. There _were_ groups, more organized, militant groups, all over the country. One, a significant one, was in Cyran Prefecture and had been the entire time the History Club had been active. _They_ were the one Secant was after. The one he'd been convinced Bill and the History Club were in contact with. When Bill had removed Secant, he'd ensured the Cyran cell of their continued antonimity and their continued activities against the government. Of course the Cyran cell had no idea that it had been Bill and Alistair who'd taken out Secant, nobody knew that and the boys wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

When Bill became better known, however, the Master cell of the Reisistance decided it was time to make him aware of them. Which they did, one cold winter evening, during a reception following Bill's first Pantocyclus City concert.

She was, for a Line, beautiful. Even Bill's eye was drawn to her and he didn't really find straight lines interesting. She had long, soft eyelashes and an eye the color of rain on a cloudy day. She was a lovely shade of deep gray and she moved with the sinuous confidence of a prima ballerina. Her name was Flourish.

"That was lovely, Mister Sifras," she said, slipping up next to him that evening, a glass of wine in one long-fingered hand. "I do so enjoy Classical music when it's played by a Master."

Bill grinned charmingly and chuckled. "Ah, well, it's a talent I've always had," he said. "I love the Classics, but I'm looking forward to playing some of my own compositions eventually."

"I shall endeavor to be present when you do," she said. "I'm sure my father would be glad to sponsor such a concert."

She brushed fingers over his hand, which clasped his own glass of wine. He preferred martinis but Alistair advised moderation in the Capitol, which he agreed was best. It didn't do to get a bit too tanked up and end up saying something they would all regret later.

As an adult, Bill found he'd had a taste for booze. Not only did he enjoy drinking, he enjoyed mixing drinks as well. It was a new experience for him and as he became more and more comfortable with his status as a 'star', he'd begun to explore the more decadent side of life, always with Alistair at his angle. He'd never go too far with Alistair there.

By the winter of his first year as a 'respectable performer', Bill Sifras was becoming quite confident in his own superiority and his ability to control any situation he found himself in. His music was his sword and shield, his personality was disarming enough to continue to dissuade any possible suspicion that he was more than he appeared to be. He was learning, as swiftly as he'd learned anything in the past, how to manipulate and move through society, even if they still thought he was a trained dog.

Their loss was Bill's gain.

He'd begun to think of himself as a cipher, a mysterious quantity, a null set, a zero. Nothing but at the same time, _everything_.

Zero was always his favorite number, ciphers his favorite code. Mystery was as comfortable to him as his place behind the keyboard.

He reveled in it, relished it. It made him feel even more superior to everyone around him. Even the Chief Circle himself.

_I am Bill Cipher_ , he'd written in his journal one day in his own indecipherable code, _I am everything, nothing. I am the Cipher. No one will see me coming until I am already there._

"I'd love that," he was saying to his companion. "Perhaps even a _private_ concert, should you find me interesting enough."

She laughed. The sound was like the tinkling of bells.

_Perhaps too much._

As pretty as she was, she was laying it on thick. He had no interest in her, sexually or otherwise, though she clearly acted as though he did.

_She wants something from me. Not just my angles._

"Maybe now?" Bill said, seeing how far he could push this.

"Oh, I'd _like_ that," she replied, closing her fingers around his hand, the one holding the wine. "Come along with me."

He followed her through the press of people, to a back room in the ballroom, where a piano was placed for the enjoyment of the guests.

She closed the door.

"What shall you play for me?"

Bill sat down and placed his glass on the piano top. He began noodling an improvised piece and glanced at her.

"What would you like?" he asked.

"Anything you wish, she said. 'Music Expands The Mind' and all. _Feel free_."

Bill didn't react. He simply played around on the keyboard.

"Are we?" he purred, "Are we _free_ , do you think?"

"Enough. Feel free to speak your mind, Mister Sifras."

"Which one are you?" he asked, looking at the keyboard as he played. "Theirs?"

"No," she said. "I'm simply Flourish. _You're_ Sifras. We know of you."

"Do _we_ now?"

"Yes. And there are other _music lovers_ who'd enjoy speaking to you and your partner. We would like to invite you to play for us some evening, when you're... _free_."

She stepped up to him, placed a hand on his angle and passed a card underneath his wineglass.

"I'd very much enjoy that _private_ concert though, William," she whispered against his side, "if you're interested in that kind of thing."

She kissed his side and with an elegant turn, quit the room.

He glanced at the card now slightly magnified by the foot of the glass.

It was in code. A cipher he knew well but knew that anyone else looking at it would not. It appeared like a small picture, of a flower that formed the word, _Flourish_.

It was the name and location of a Cell within the City.

_Interesting._

Perhaps, if Alistair confirmed it was genuine, they might actually go to the location it described. It was a bar in the center of the city, not a seedy pub as he might have figured a Subversive Cell might meet but a rather classy supper club that Polygons were commonly attempting to 'be seen' at. It was a presumptuous move.

Bill, however, would have it no less.

He was nothing if not presumptuous.

***

_Orbits, Pantocyclus City_

"She wanted to sleep with you," Alistair said evenly, looking at Bill. 

"Of course," Bill said airily. "She's not the first. I get them much more often than you'd think, Lister."

Alistair grumbled. "Just as long as you--"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Bill chuckled. "Lines don't interest me, you know that."

"But other Shapes?"

"If I didn't have _you_? Maybe." He grinned at Alistair as they walked into the Club, with their attendants trailing behind. "But I _have_ you. You're all I'm interested in. Or want." He patted Alistair's angle. "You're in this for the duration, old pal. You can't get rid of me."

"Good," Alistair said darkly. "I just don't have to like it."

"I don't expect you to," Bill said. "They're just jealous. Of _both_ of us." He laughed and kissed Alistair's angle, in front of everyone. He really didn't care who saw or knew about them now. He was feeling rather invulnerable.

Alistair brightened a touch. "You look for your friends, I'll get us drinks." He turned to the handlers. "Go. _Away_. Let us have some time."

The attendants looked slightly uncomfortable with this but did as they were told. They ranged out near the doors and other exits, trying to look like they belonged there, even though, as a mix of Squares and Pentagons, they did look as much out of place as Alistair and Bill did.

Bill took a seat near the center of the club, ignoring the shocked looks the other Polygons threw his way. He was dressed well: smart black bowtie, white silk scarf, elegant black _bespoke_ jacket cut to accentuate his handsome, attractive angles; he carried himself like a gentleman and he _did_ have a bit of a reputation that preceded him, even in this place in the center of the City. People began to whisper, some not so quietly, that this _was_ in fact the strange young Triangle from Cyran Prefecture that could play the piano better than even the most talented Squares and Polygons were capable of.

Bill just sat there, taking it all in. He found that he enjoyed the attention, even the most confused or subtly hostile. He smiled occasionally, even throwing a thinly veiled smirk towards the most critical of whispers.

_Yeah, yeah, you just sit there and wallow in your impotent jealousy, you rubes. Even me, with my three sides and common upbringing, am better-looking, smarter,_ cleverer _than you could ever_ hope _to be. Someday, even_ you _will bow before_ my _superiority. Just you wait!_

"Here," Alistair said, passing him a glass of wine, "have you seen _anyone_ yet?"

"Not yet, just sitting here and enjoying the jealousy of these so-called 'Higher Shapes'."

"Bill, remember we're here for _them_ , the music enthuiasts, not for exposure. We need to make sure they are who they say they are."

"I know," Bill said, sipping his wine. "Don't worry. They'll make contact when they're ready."

"Yes." Alistair sipped his wine. "You know Bill, I'm gonna say somethin' an' I don't want y' to bite my angle off if I do."

"What?" Bill turned towards Alistair, with a touch of concern. Usually these days, Alistair had made a point of keeping his accent smooth, mostly out of his speech the way his father did. When it made a reappearance it meant something was bothering the Rhomboid. "I won't, why?"

"I think y' losin' sight of the goal here, Billy," Alistair said softly. "I-I mean, y' fallin' in love with y' own fame, y' gettin' a bit self-involved. We're doin' this f' you, yes but we're doin' it f' the Lower Shapes, th' oppressed folks. Th' ones we've been tryin' t' protect an' help."

Bill blinked, taken aback. He covered it by taking a sip of his wine.

"Alistair," he said softly, "I wouldn't bite yer angle off for sayin' that." He offered a small smile. "Unless ya _wanted_ me to _bite_ ya, and that'd be for _fun_."

Alistair flushed a little and smiled shyly, glancing down.

"I think," Bill said, "that you're right, though. I can get caught up in my own brilliance and importance. That's only because I really _do_ feel superior to everyone here. I can't help it. I'm smarter than all of them and I can't shake the feelin' that I'm meant for somethin' greater than even _this_. Somethin' _more_. I'm gonna do something that changes things for _good_ and it's gonna be _me_ , Alistair."

"For good," Alistair echoed quietly. "Bill, d-do you feel superior t'-t' _me_ , too?"

Bill froze. He looked at Alistair. "Not you," he said almost too quickly. "Never you."

_But I'm lying. Aren't I?_ Something dug at his soul. He was. He did. He felt superior even to Alistair.

He took another long drink of his wine. The earlier enjoyment he'd had mentally snarking at the Polygons had gone out of him. He didn't _want_ to feel that way, not towards Alistair. Especially not Alistair.

"I love you, Alistair," he said, touching his boyfriend's hand. "I'm sorry."

And he was, for everything. It _changed_ nothing but it did make him feel a little better.

Alistair smiled quietly.

"'Music Expands the Mind' does it not, Mister Sifras?"

Bill looked up.

An Octagon stood beside him, glass in hand, casually smiling at him.

"It does indeed," Alistair said.

Bill nodded. "William Sifras," he said, extending a hand towards the Octagon.

"Creon. Creon Hugh," The Octagon shook Bill's hand. "May I sit?"

"Be our guest," Bill said and kicked out a chair at the table.

Creon sat down, leaned back and considered both the young Shapes before him. "My daughter Flourish tells me you're interested in performing for a little get-together we're thinking of having. One where we might also be able to chat. My friends and I are great _history_ buffs, as I understand you gentlemen are as well?"

"Yes," Bill said, "we were part of a History Club at Secondary."

"Cyran Prefecture, yes, we know. Please, call this number if you'd like to join us some evening. We'd very much like to have you."

He passed Alistair a card with the same kind of coded picture on it that Flourish had given Bill. 

"Thank you," Bill said.

"Feel free," Creon said.

"Anytime."

After the Octagon had left them, Alistair looked at Bill.

"Feel free?"

"Yes. They're safe," Bill said quietly. 

"How do you know that?"

Bill paused. He looked at Alistair. "I-I'm not sure actually," he said thoughtfully, "it-it's just something I... _know_. Like, innately."

"Hm," was all Alistair said, looking at him almost _speculatively_. "Good. Very good."


	7. By Hook Or By Crook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chief Circle has taken an interest in Bill.

_High Summer the Following Year, City of Pantocyclus_

"Lovely, Mister Sifras, absolutely lovely!" The Circle clapped, standing and the rest of the people in the intimate concert space joined in.

Bill, standing before his piano, bowed elegantly.

"Thank you, Majesty," he said, his normally sharp tenor voice pleasant, modulated, _perfect_. He plucked the top hat resting on the piano bench beside him and placed it jauntily atop his apex.

Vyraius Cerchio, the Chief Circle himself, who always insisted upon Royal titles even though he was an elected official, offered Bill an indulgent smile and took his seat.

The rest of the assembly followed.

"Excellent, excellent performance. And from a Triangle no less!"

Bill was quiet, his entire attitude professional, respectful though ice shot through his veins at the offhanded comment.

He simply picked up his cane and bowed to the Chief yet again.

"Thank you for your attention," he said and turned to leave the stage, as he had hundreds of times before.

"I'd like to chat with you later, if you will," Cerchio said as Bill approached the wing.

Bill paused, turned and inclined his apex. "I'd be honored, your Majesty."

***

The reception that followed every one of these things was the same. The fact that it was being held in the Chief Circle's palace hardly made it different except that Vyraius himself was present.

The Chief Circle was a pale colored, relatively svelte Shape, not as large as Bill had always pictured him to be. Older, yes but robust and not a bad-looking man as far as Circles went.

Bill's preference ran towards Rhomboids and only one Rhomboid in particular but even he was a bit taken aback by the general appeal of the man.

He suspected that the Chief had a greater interest in him other than his unique ability to play the piano and compose music, he'd picked that up from the first time the Circle set eye on him. By now, Bill was used to it. He'd never been anything but completely respectable however, no matter how many times he'd been approached by Shapes who found him a handsome novelty or wanted to add him to their lists of conquests.

Over his time in the Capitol, Bill had discovered that, in many ways, the rumors he'd heard his entire life about the plight of entertainers was correct, though not for the reasons he'd been told. Entertainers, for the most part, made their careers by the contacts they made and, for want of a better term: slept with. They were still slaves of the Polygons, no matter how rich they became from their arts or how many lovers they'd pleased. They were still servants and slaves to be sold to the highest bidder and when their masters tired of them, they were sent away or sold to another master.

Bill and Alistair, so far, had avoided falling into the same trap but only because Bill's talent was such that they were able to make money by his novelty alone. How much longer they'd be able to stay independent rested greatly on Bill's ability to schmooze his audiences, to remain a mystery and intelligently manage his income. Alistair and his father, Varien, were instrumental in that as well.

Determined to keep his life his own, Bill refused any and all bribes and invitations to the bedrooms of Shapes who promised the world if only he'd become a notch on their bedpost. He generally dissembled politely with the affirmation that he and Alistair were indeed a set and he was deeply in love with his boyfriend, now fiancé, and he had no other desire other than to perform his music and share it with any and everyone who loved the arts.

It was true. Bill really didn't want to be with anyone other than Alistair, though he always found the invitations flattering and amusing. His very resistance to the more sordid side of the Capitol was yet another fascinating and mysterious enticement to the greater community. Which only made him that much more desirable and a definite prize for whomever eventually _did_ win him. That it _would_ happen wasn't even debated.

_Someone_ would entice him away from the handsome Rhomboid constantly at his angle and whoever did would have the envy and admiration of the entire Capitol.

So that night, when Cerchio approached him with an offer, Bill politely and delicately declined.

That might have been his first mistake.

***

Bill paced his apartment, chain smoking and drinking hard. Anxiety welled up inside him and after a moment more of this, he strode to the balcony doors, threw them open and charged out into the icy night air.

It was always cold here. Even though it was now mid-summer and they'd been away from Trikampis for almost a year, winter never left this place.

Bill hated it. He missed the forests and soft summer breezes of the village, the Ruins and the laughter of his friends, the warm lemon poppy seed cakes his mother always made around this time of year and the chess matches with his father on the patio of their tiny cottage.

He missed having ice cream and coffee with Alistair and Varien on the terrace of their little mansion while his mother and father chatted with Varien about town events and the craft fairs his mother was always organizing.

It was cold and the lemon poppy seed cakes were never as good as his mother's.

The booze and the nicotine were the only things he could rely on, other than Alistair's constant comforting presence and the occasional visits from the Hughs and their friends.

He knew he'd fucked up when he received yet another invitation from the Chief Circle, this time for a _private_ concert.

Nobody refused an audience with the Cerchio a second time.

Even Flourish was shocked that he'd turned the Chief Circle's second invitation down.

"Bill, you can't do that," she gasped a few nights ago when they'd paid him a visit. "You're going to have to eventually accept his offer... It's _not_ an offer, not really."

"Did you people actually _expect_ me to sleep with him if he asked?"

"You're an _entertainer_ ," she said, "and to be honest, _yes_ , if it helps the cause."

"I'm a Concert Pianist!" Bill snapped back, for once showing a little more of his true colors, "I'm _not_ a whore! I won't do it, not for _you_ , not for _anyone_!"

He growled and took a long drink of his wine. Their apartment was relatively safe. The bugs that were there had been rendered useless by Alistair's clever rewiring, just as he'd once 'fixed' the telephone in the Librarian's office. Nobody would hear their discussions and Bill was grateful for that, because he had a _lot_ more to say to Flourish and her father.

"If you expect me to help you change things, then yer gonna do it _my_ way," Bill snapped. "And that does not include screwin' around with a guy, just because he's the Chief Circle, or bloody Spherius Himself. I ain't doin' it!"

_That_ shut everyone up.

Bringing up anything related to _Flatland_ was dangerous, even in a place where they could _feel free_.

"Bill!" Flourish gasped.

"Yeah," he said coolly, "you want _my_ help, you're gonna start doing things the way _I_ say they oughta be done. No more of this underhanded whisperin' in people's angles. You want _change_ , then you let _me_ take charge. Obviously, what ya'll been doin' so far isn't workin'."

"Besides," Alistair said, leaning against the doorway, cool as ice and twice as freezing, "whisperin' in people's angles hasn't got you anywhere. People are still as oppressed as ever, maybe even more so in the villages. You think I don't keep an eye on what's going on around us? Non-violence can only go so far. Sure, we're in the public eye now, sure they know who we are and that we're tryin' to make a difference an' that's fine. That's what we wanted from th' beginnin'. But the cells in th' villages aren't doin' so hot. There's unrest that's been growin' since Bill an' I left Cyran. It's growin' an' people are getting geared up t' fight. You people are pretty cloistered from th' rest of th' world an' the rest of the world is strugglin'."

He sipped his own wine.

"It's pretty much like I figured. An' even me Da is beginnin' t' agree: this 'peaceful protest' thing isn't workin' anymore."

"You're saying we should get ready to fight?" Creon Hugh said, frowning. He sighed. 

"Yeah, and if yer not aware of what's been goin' on in other Prefectures, then yer a lousy resistance cell," Bill added.

"No, no, I'm aware," Hugh said quietly. "And we're ready. We just didn't want it to get to that point, is all. I know the resistance has been growing and we've been fighting the Militia in the outlying villages off and on for a few months now. I didn't want to tell... uh, _you_ because I was unsure what your reactions would be."

"And _me_ , father?" Flourish said, taken aback. "You didn't tell _me_ either."

"I knew you'd be afraid," he said, "and the last thing I wanted to do was make you feel like you were in danger. These young men, they know what it's like to be in danger, but you..."

"Yer a coward," Bill grumbled and stormed off to his room.

***

That's the last he'd seen of the Hughs family, and that had been two days ago.

He tossed his spent cigarette off the balcony and leaned heavily on it.

He knew another message would come from Cerchio and he wasn't at all sure how he was going to handle it. The man clearly refused to take no for an answer.

"Nobody turns the Chief Circle down--on anything," Alistair said softly from the balcony door. "But I know you will."

"He's an idiot to keep askin'," Bill mumbled. "I'm loyal to you, why can't he just let it alone?"

"Because he's used to gettin' what he wants. An' he wants _you_."

"Next time, it won't be so nice, either," Bill said. "I know it. I just don't know what to do."

"Keep sayin' no, at leas' for now, until we figure somethin' out," Alistair said, sliding an arm around his angle and holding him close. "He won't get t' you. _I_ won't let 'im. Y' mine an' I'm gonna keep it tha' way."

Bill couldn't help the thrill that rang through him at the tone of his fiance's voice. It wasn't possessive, just firm and resolute.

"He'll have t' go through _me_ , firs'," Alistair murmured. "An' I'm no pushover."

"You certainly are not," Bill said, glancing at him. "I'm glad you're not. We're gonna figure this out, yer right. Somehow."

"Damn straight," Alistair said. "An' I think, I'm gonna make some calls..."

***

"I like the hat," Alistair said softly, "the tie and cane, it's very you."

Bill turned from examining himself in the mirror of his suite and flushed a little. 

"Been meanin' t' say somethin'," Alistair said, walking into the room. "I, uh... jus' been a bit... _distracted_."

"Yeah, I get ya," Bill said, "we've been busy. Just wish I didn't have to wear my best stuff for that man."

"Well, he _is_ th' Chief Circle," Alistair said with a shrug. "An' it's not yer bes'... I... have a gift f' you... for y' birthday. Later. I-in my room. So, don't worry about ruinin' yer outfit with his presence."

Bill took a deep breath. "Hell of a way to be celebrating my birthday, at the Palace of the Chief Circle. I'd rather be here, with _you_ and some mint choc ice cream an--"

"--lemon poppy seed cake?" Alistair smiled gently with his eye. "Yeah, well, _he_ doesn't know it's y' birthday, Bill. Jus' me."

"And you're all that matters," Bill said.

"Y-yeah, exactly. Let's do this thin' an' get it over w'. Then we can come back an' you can open my gifts."

"Gifts? More than one?"

"Why not?" Alistair said, "I can give you gifts with an 's' now, so why shouldn't I?"

"You don't have to--"

"I want to. An' I never could before."

"Even as the son of a Lawyer?"

"Yeah, you know tha'... jus' cause we had money didn't mean we _had_ money." Alistair chuckled. "But we _do_ now an' I wanna spend some of it on you, so sue me."

Bill laughed at that. "I'm not yer 'Da', Alistair, I wouldn't know where to begin."  
Alistair offered Bill his arm. "Let's go get this over with. Maybe tonight will be th' turnin' point."

"I sure as hell hope so."

***

The event was an 'open' reception for Bill as well as other newcomers to the City. All of them, artists, poets, musicians and writers, an annual reception held by the Chief for his favorites, including Bill. It was a very pointed message to Bill and Alistair.

Bill, as Cerchio's guest, had no choice but to respond, to attend and if he turned the Chief's invitation for a private concert down again, _if_ it were even offered, things might turn very bad for both of them.

That was fine. They had a plan already in motion. Alistair's contacts were solid and reliable and even Hugh agreed they were necessary.

Tonight, the reception would mark the first public statement by the resistance, the Subversives, as the Circles called them. There was no way it would be connected to Bill and Alistair but it had been planned from the beginning, by Bill himself. Alistair and Hugh set things in motion, but it was Bill's brainchild.

Creon Hugh was so impressed, it was almost an insult, even though Bill knew the man was as honest and kind as the day was long. He really had no business being the Leader of the Pantocyclus Cell. He only was because he was the highest ranking Shape who was sympathetic to the resistance against the Circles. He'd seen more than he ever would admit to anyone, but Bill could see it in the man's eye, whenever he talked about his work.

Creon would be there, along with Alistair, Varien and their handlers. Flourish volunteered to coordinate things from their secret office in the _Orbits_ supper club's basement and even her father couldn't dissuade her. She'd managed to come into her own as the stand-in leader when her father was unable to lead due to his job. A job, which was the Chief Scientist for the Circ Laboratory, a secretive science lab that was a subsidiary of the government. It was this which haunted the gentle Octagon, a man who's only true love had ever been science. Even Flourish agreed about that and she didn't mind.

Bill was becoming more and more fond of the elegant Line and her father, as well as the compatriots he met through them. Perhaps not as fond as he was of his friends Nancy and Daniel and the remnants of the History Club who were by now, members of the Cyran Cell but he did care about them and what happened to them.

Alistair had helped a great deal with that. He'd helped Bill get his mind back on track, back on the _reason_ they'd decided to do this whole crazy thing in the first place.

"Da still doesn't know everything," Alistair said as they rode in the Chief's limousine towards the Palace. "An' I don't want him t' know. It would only... it's our _secret_ , Bill."

Once the shock and excitement of Varien's plan had worn off, that one increasingly distant night last summer, Alistair and Bill made a plan. They could do what Varien proposed, show the world Bill's talent and musical mastery, prove to them that Lower Shapes were _people_ , intelligent, creative, _worthwhile_ people. At the same time, they could use this opportunity to advance their own cause. No, they wouldn't take things into their own hands--they'd promised--but they would do everything else they could to find the Others, the Others Secant was looking for, the Others the Circles feared, the _true_ resistance: the Subversives. They'd find them, join them and help them make a _difference_.

By hook or by crook.

And tonight, as the boys disembarked from the stretch limo and made their way into the Palace, amidst the throngs of paparazzi and excited onlookers, two small Shapes in a line of other artists and performers, tonight, they'd show the world that the people: _all_ Figures, would no longer be content to be kept in line by the Circles.

That might have been Bill's second mistake.


	8. Many Happy Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last place Bill ever wanted to be for his birthday was in the palace of the Chief Circle. For Vyraius Cerchio, the Chief, it's the only place he wanted Bill to be.

Bill and Alistair had been to many parties in the year they'd been in Pantocyclus even a reception hosted by the Chief himself but nothing they'd attended thus far had been as sumptuous, elegant and incredibly _decadent_ as this event. They were both stunned by the environment in which they'd found themselves this evening.

Bill allowed himself a rush of excitement, fantasizing that this party was for him and him alone, at least for a couple of minutes.

"It's almos' too much," Alistair murmured at his angle, a hand protectively and possessively set against his back. "I-I'm not sure I like it here, t' be hones'."

Bill glanced at his fiancé. "Don't worry, we just stick together and we'll be fine," he said softly, offering what he hoped was a comforting curve of his eye towards the Rhomboid. "Let's get a drink and just observe."

They found their way through the press of elaborately costumed people, over to the bar. Bill scoped out an empty table while Alistair fetched their drinks. They were able to stay relatively unnoticed while Alistair slid his chair closer to Bill. Bill didn't like how nervous the other boy was, it bothered him that this entire situation seemed to be causing him more stress than enjoyment. He didn't want to be here either, not when they could be quietly celebrating alone in their apartments, though Bill _was_ enjoying being noticed and remarked upon.

He was beautifully dressed, good-looking and celebrated in the community, even _if_ he was a Triangle. He'd always liked attention and on tonight, his twentieth birthday, he _deserved_ it. He just wished Alistair were as comfortable in the spotlight as he was.

"Oh! Is that William Sifras?" a Line giggled as she came closer to them. She was short, young, draped in ropes of jewels, wearing a bright, glittery wrap that was probably just as expensive as Bill's hat. "You're _here_? Oh my! I have to tell my friends, wait right there!" She hurried off into the crowd.

Alistair sipped his wine. "Probably gonna go on all night."

"Well yes. Don't worry about them, they're just girls. Girls get kind of silly around me."

"Do they?"

Bill shrugged. "There's a fan-club among the younger Figures. Mostly Lines, I think. Something about me just sets 'em off."

Alistair actually chuckled. "Well, I can see why."

Bill laughed. "You _know_ why, Lister. It's because I'm just not attainable and they know it."

A group of Lines was forming nearby them now. All teenagers, all covered in expensive gems and clothing and all giggling. Bill noticed that none of them seemed brave enough to actually _talk_ to him. They just giggled and gazed at him with giant eyes and a couple of them seemed on the verge of fainting.

"Hm," Alistair murmured, glancing towards the girls and then back at Bill. Bill chuckled. He'd seen that look in Alistair's eye before.

Alistair leaned closer, put a hand on Bill's angle and leaned in to kiss him.

The group of girls made a noise that echoed through the party and Bill couldn't help laughing, almost wickedly, as the two of them parted. The group of Lines tittered and fidgeted and after a few more moments of Bill and Alistair staring into each other's eye, pointedly ignoring them, they dispersed.

"That was mean," Bill said.

"Yeah, and your laugh _wasn't_?"

Bill grinned at him. "Well, they won't bother us anymore, I don't think. You can be kind of possessive you know."

"Yeah and you _aren't_?"

Bill laughed again, though much kinder and sweeter. "Still, that's just gonna make them want me even more and you know it."

"But they'll leave us alone and that's the point."

"William Sifras?"

Bill looked up. A large Nonagon was standing by the bar, arms tucked smartly behind his back. He was dressed impeccably, a higher ranking official by the look of him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Your presence is requested by the Chief, please come with me."

Bill glanced at Alistair. "Very well."

They both rose.

"Not him. Just you."

Bill frowned. "Alistair goes everywhere I go, sir."

"He can wait here. His drinks are gratis. You will not be away long."

"But--"

"It's okay, Bill. I'll be fine..." He touched Bill's hand and caught his eye. _You will be too._

Bill blinked, staring at Alistair a moment. The Rhomboid was quiet. "Alistair--?"

_Go. You'll be fine._

The Nonagon took Bill's shoulder and firmly directed him away from the table.

Alistair hadn't spoken, Bill was _certain_ of it.

So why was he convinced he'd heard the young man's voice in his apex?

***

Bill was escorted away from the party, into a less populated side corridor, which went around the main ballroom and into the main part of the Palace. He was given a martini and left in what looked like a smoking-room, a well-appointed chamber designed for brandy and cigars, furnished in large, sturdy dark wood and leather covered furniture. A very masculine room. No plants. Bill frowned. He liked plants and missed the trees from his home village. The lack of them only made the room seem that much more _alien_.

He sipped his martini. It was very good. Expertly mixed with a fair dose of icy vodka to the more fragrant vermouth. He preferred gin martinis but these people in their perpetual white, cold wintry City drank _vodka_ in their martinis.

"William Sifras, my very _busy_ Triangle!"

Vyraius Cerchio surged into the room, his bright circular form swathed in an expensive, tailored white jacket trimmed in silver, a silver vest and white silk top hat that was most likely more expensive than Alistair's family's whole estate back in Cyran. Bill, in his favorite black velvet and silk ensemble felt like an Isosceles triangle from the docks in comparison. His hand tightened around his cane.

"Your Majesty," he said stiffly, "I'm honored."

"You should be," Vyraius chuckled. "You're a hard man to pin down, my boy."

"I've been busy, Majesty," Bill said, "I've been recording, doing concerts and trying to find a little time to work on my compositions."

"But you apparently found enough time to get engaged to that very attractive Rhomboid of yours. Planning the wedding taking up the _rest_ of your time?"

"Yes," Bill replied quickly. "We've been busy planning the wedding as well, of course."

"Oh I figured," Vyraius said, walking to the bar and making himself a drink. That seemed odd to Bill. He figured the Chief wouldn't lower himself to prepare his own drinks. It _was_ just the two of them in here though and it looked like Cerchio wanted to keep it private. A bartender would have just been in the way. "I wanted to see you before this. I'd figured you'd be more than excited at a chance to have a private concert with the Chief. Alas, I suppose work does tend to take one away from the _pleasures_ in life, doesn't it?"

"I do apologize," Bill heard himself saying even though he'd really had no intention of finding himself here, alone with Vyraius, for any reason. "Yes, work tends to do that, as I'm sure you know. You must be busy all the time."

"Ah well, yes, that is true. I do tend to forget the _little_ people work even harder than I do."

Bill winced. He hoped Vyraius hadn't seen it. He covered with a sip of his martini. The little people worked harder than _anyone_ and he was certain Vyraius knew it, _liked_ it like that.

"So, I understand it's your birthday today, young man," Vyraius was saying as he finished preparing whatever it is he was drinking and sauntered around the bar towards him. "What a great happenstance for you. Having such a _gala_ thrown on your special day."

"Yeah," Bill said, sipping his martini. "Coincidence, I'm sure."

"It really was," Vyraius said with a chuckle. "Though I can't imagine a better day for it. So, now that we both have some _time_ , why don't you grace me with a little of your musical mastery?"

Bill sighed. He took a deep breath. "Your Majesty, I need to be honest with you. I'm more than happy to play the piano for anyone, anytime. I _love_ the piano. But I'm not interested in anything more than that. I know it might seem kind of colloquial to folks here but I'm just a small town guy and I have someone in my life I love dearly. I-I'm just not suited to anything other than that."

Vyraius swiveled towards him, almost menacingly. "Is that so?" he said, his voice even and a bit threatening.

"Yes," Bill said, keeping his voice steady, strong. He straightened his shape and gazed back at the Circle, trying to project confidence he wasn't entirely sure he felt. "I love Alistair. We're a matched set. And while I'm deeply honored by your interest, I have to decline anything other than a concert for you."

The Circle regarded him a long, tense moment.

Then he grinned.

"Of course!" he trumpeted, walking forward to clasp Bill's free hand in his own. "I'm nothing if not _sympathetic_. Ah, can't blame a King for trying, can you?"

Bill gulped, trying not to show it. The man really wanted to make sure everyone was aware of his status and even though he was being 'friendly', Bill could tell he was angry, _insulted_.

"After all, I'm just a Triangle," Bill offered, "you probably wouldn't find me that distracting anyway."

_Great, downgrade yourself in front of the man_ , his brain grumbled at him, _that'll make him respect your choices!_

"You're probably right," Vyraius said, a very fine sneer tinging his voice. "But I won't hold that against a man of your talents."

Bill bit back a response and sipped his martini. "I am more than happy to play for you though," he said. "Where's the piano?"

A stray thought tickled his brain. It was getting closer to the time his plans were scheduled to go off and he wanted to be in the ballroom with Alistair when that happened. 

The Chief took Bill's arm. "This way, Mister Sifras," he said.

He escorted the young Triangle into an antechamber, where an impressive instrument was situated.

"This is my _minor_ music room," Vyraius said. "This is only _one_ of my pianos. It could have been yours if you'd not, heh--" His grip tightened on Bill's elbow a moment, almost _painfully_ a split second, "-- _turned me down_."

Bill gulped, unable to disguise it this time.

"Ah, well," he said, trying to keep his voice light, trying to echo the forced playfulness of the Chief's own tone, "I guess I'll just have to enjoy playing it rather than owning it."

He tried to chuckle, which came out thin and kind of high, which only served to embarrass him further.

"Play something unique for me, Mister Sifras," Vyraius said, "something _new_. Just for _me_."

Bill tried not to gulp again. This guy wasn't letting up. He didn't care if Bill _was_ a Triangle. He was a conquest, something he _couldn't_ have which made him all the more desirable to him. And Vyraius really _wasn't_ used to being denied.

Setting his cane to the side of the piano and his glass atop the piano to his left hand, as he always did, Bill removed his top hat and set it on the bench before he sat down. He focused on the piano. While he played he would try to figure this situation out. He didn't want Vyraius' attention, not like this and he had to try and diffuse it as much as possible without irritating the guy further.

"A lot of the time, growing up, I liked to just sit at the piano and play without thinking about it too much. It helped me to concentrate on my studies and relax me when I was stressed out from school and general stuff." He began to noodle, which _did_ help him relax, to think. "My dad worked in a music store so I got to play the piano when he was cleaning the shop after work. Sometimes I got to play at school... until..."

He broke off and focused on the keyboard.

"Until?"

Bill drew in a deep breath.

"My school told me I would no longer be allowed to study music or play the piano."

"Why was that, Mister Sifras?"

"They didn't want me to go into a profession that wasn't considered respectable for an Equilateral."

"Ah, they thought you'd become a demimonde and reflect badly on their little school."

Bill coughed. He continued to play, finding a melancholy tune and expanding upon it as he went. "Yes, your Majesty."

"Just like you seemed to think I wanted you to be?"

"Well--"

"I don't need a _whore_ , Mister Sifras. I'm the Chief Circle, if I want sex, I have a palace full of willing bedmates. I wanted a _paramour_ , a companion. A pretty little gem to put on my arm and show off to everyone else, someone to lavish attention and riches upon, someone as _talented_ as he is handsome."

"I'm a Triangle. A Lower Shape, why would a Circle, especially the _Chief_ Circle want a three-sided Shape as a lover?" Bill blurted. "Wouldn't it make you look--"

"Like _what_ Mister Sifras?"

Bill gulped.

"I-I don't know... I'm just a commoner. A commoner who is talented with the piano. I..."

A hand slid over his back, to caress his angle. He tried hard not to shudder at the touch.

"Maybe I _like_ making people think. I know you're here because you and your friends wanted me and my administration to _notice_ Lesser Shapes, to respect their little contributions to society, to consider you and people like you as _better_ than we thought you were."

_People like me._

His tone belayed the words. Vyraius was still as condescending as ever but he clearly wanted Bill to think he was being gracious to the Lessers. The truth was, the Chief Circle wouldn't ever see Bill as anything other than a well-trained performing animal. He wanted a pet, a cute little Triangle that everyone knew was his toy, in _all_ ways. He wasn't interested in the welfare of the non-Polygons.

"I, uh, yes," Bill said, continuing to play. "That's all we want, a little more freedom. Equality. There are so many talented people who are Triangles and Squares and--"

"Lesser Shapes," Vyraius said, stopping him before he said the word: Isosceles. "Only Lesser Shapes like you and your boyfriend--"

"Fiancé," Bill corrected, continuing to play.

" _Boyfriend_."

Bill frowned. "Majesty, I appreciate your dedication, but Alistair _is_ my fiancé and will be my husband very soon. And I have no desire to seek comfort outside of my relationship with him. Please."

Vyraius slid in closer to him. "I like the way you say _please_ , William... _Bill_."

Bill stiffened. He couldn't suppress it any longer. "Majesty--"

The Circle's grip on his angle tightened and he pulled Bill around, away from the keyboard. In a moment that would forever be seared into Bill's memory, the Circle pulled him against him and forced a hard kiss against Bill's eye. His grip was like iron and Bill couldn't do anything to disengage the other man's unwelcome attentions.

He groaned, pushing against the Chief Circle, until Vyraius had enough and allowed Bill to push him away.

"You're feisty," Vyraius said with a nasty chuckle. "I _like_ it!"

"Sir!" Bill gasped, falling back against the keyboard with a loud discordant crash, "Please!"

"Heh! There's that _please_ again!"

"Sir, no!"

"What?"

"No!" Bill cried, pushing off from the piano and swiftly placing it between himself and the larger Circle. "No, Majesty. NO!"

Vyraius laughed. "Oh, now _this_ is getting _fun_!"

He surged towards Bill, toppling that silver hat from atop his circular Shape and Bill slid around again, trying desperately to keep the instrument as his barrier.

"Please!"

"Aha! _Please_ again! I LOVE it! When I _catch_ you, boy, you're gonna _love_ what I do next! I have _skills_ , young man. _Impressive_ skills! By the time we're done, you won't even _remember_ the name of that silly little Square of yours."

Bill stared back, realization sinking into his angle. This man wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted and his options were few. He couldn't kill the Chief Circle, not in his own palace, not where they were most likely being watched, but right now, he _wanted_ to. He knew that if Vyraius caught him, even then, he couldn't kill the man. Bill didn't want to die and he knew that if he even got to that point, where he even made an _attempt_ , he'd be dead before the Circle hit the ground.

This was only the second time he actually wanted to _kill_ someone.

This time, the realization _shocked_ him.

"Sir, listen to me," he tried, fighting with the urge rising inside him to attack the man, security be damned. "You don't really want to do this--you don't want to force someone to have sex with you who doesn't want it--"

"Yes, actually I do! Because I know, once I start, you'll _beg_ me for more." He chuckled, weaving back and forth on the opposite side of the piano. "They _always_ so, my boy. _Always._ " He was still bigger than Bill, even with as slender a circle as he was. Bill knew if Vyraius got his hands on him again, there'd be no way he could escape him, except with violence.

His only resource was reasoning, which was beginning to terrify him. He wasn't very good at reasoning with agitated people when he was in a steady, calm mind and this situation had spun wildly out of hand.

"I don't want this," he said evenly. "Sir, I don't want to have to say it, but touch me again and I will be forced to defend myself."

"Oooh you're a _fighter_! You're only making me want you more, Bill!"

"Majesty, let me go. I _swear_ I won't tell anyone about this."

_Liar._

"No. You're _mine_ , you just don't realize it yet. Don't worry, it'll get through that adorable little angle of yours, _eventually_."

Bill swiped his glass, downed what was left and prepared himself to make a run for the door. Vyraius hovered, chuckling as though this were just a grand game of chase the two of them were playing.

Bill shot towards the door at an angle, fast and sharp, determined to _vivisect_ the Circle if he should be dumb enough to try and block him.

Vyraius was smarter than that, cleanly avoiding Bill's angles and slipped in beside him, reaching one long arm out to snag Bill's jacket collar and yanking him back, flat on the floor. He was on him in an instant, flat to flat, pinning him down, making all three angles useless.

"You're _mine_ , Sifras," he hissed, leaning down, using his own considerable size to keep Bill beneath him. " _All_ mine."

Bill's eye squeezed closed, determined to fight back and not allow this Shape to violate him. Vyraius pressed a vicious kiss against it, easily keeping Bill from struggling.

_This is it, it's_ over _\--_

A deafening bang thundered through the building, bringing an ominous rumble with it.

"What the hell?" Vyraius hissed, twisting up.

Another rumble shook the palace and Bill quickly slid out from under the distracted Chief and made a beeline towards the door.

_"WILLIAM SIFRAS!"_ Vyraius Cerchio screamed behind him.

Which was definitely Bill's third and possibly final, mistake.


	9. Free For All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cry of 'Free For All' echoes through Flatland.

As he made the ballroom, Bill skidded to a halt, staring in shock at the chaos that confronted him.

"Bill!"

God, he'd never been so happy to hear that voice in his life.

Alistair grabbed his arm and pulled him into the relative safety behind a nearby bar.

"What's going on--?"

"What _happened_ to you?"

They stared at each other.

"Later," Bill said quickly, "what's going on, Alistair?"

Alistair pointed.

In the center of the ballroom, still smoking with the fire that the crash through the roof had caused, was a massive banner. Clumps of burning ceiling littered the ballroom, along with the debris the explosion had caused. The banner hung in the center of the room, glaring bright white, splattered with several stark black messages:

**Freedom For ALL Shapes!**

**THE THIRD DIMENSION IS REAL!**

**UPWARDS NOT NORTHWARDS!**

**Flatland for Flatlanders!**

"Wow!" Bill breathed.

"They're not gonna like this," Alistair whispered. "Where is Cerchio?"

"Probably trying to find a way to chase me," Bill whispered back. "He tried to attack me, just like I thought."

"We should get out of here," Alistair said, "especially if Cerchio is after you now as well."

"Can we, without looking like we knew about this?"

"I think we can, everyone's running around, nobody knows what's going on."

"Free For All! Free For All!" a chant was rising amongst the terrified party-goers, within the ballroom and seeming to echo outside. "Flatland for Flatlanders! Free For ALL!"

"I didn't tell them to do that!" Bill hissed as the two of them ducked under broken ceiling and furniture, heading as quickly as they could for the exit. "It's only going to make everyone angrier!"

"FREE FOR ALL, FREE FOR ALL!"

"DOWN WITH THE CIRCLES!"

"Come on!" Alistair said, grabbing Bill's arm and pulling him, stumbling, towards one of the secondary doors. "Let's get to _Orbits_ and find out what's happening."

When Alistair yanked Bill into the clear, cold confusion outside the Palace ballroom, his senses reeled a second, dizziness threatening to sneak up and bash him in the angle. His brain was beginning to fog.

"Bill! Come on!"

Alistair's firm, strong hand pulled him along with him, mixing into the crowd and zipping into the first alleyway they could find, running until they were sure they'd put enough distance between them and the chaos.

Even so, echoing cries of _'FREE FOR ALL'_ , lingered in the streets.

"This is... I can't believe... that-that _bast--_ "

"Wait until we get there, Alistair," Bill breathed, fighting down the wooziness that kept threatening to overtake him.

The door to Orbits was open, the club was busy, though more with shocked patrons staring at the television displays above the bar in the cocktail lounge. Confusion and a healthy current of fear filled the place, which only served to increase the business for the bar. Everyone was drinking anxiously.

Bill and Alistair made their way into the back room, waving at the employees as they went by, who knew them by now and didn't care if they came in the back.

After a couple of turns into the storage room and the small hallway beyond, the two Shapes emerged in Flourish's small, secret 'office' in the basement.

"Flourish!" Bill yelled shakily from the doorway. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"I decided to up the ante," she said coolly. "I made sure to seed the crowds outside with our own people and pay off some Isosceles Royal Guard to make sure my men got to where they needed to be. What's the good of having money if I can't use it for something worthwhile?"

Bill stared at her, as did Alistair.

"The idea was to make a statement, Flourish, not to start a _riot_!" Bill nearly screeched with anger, his voice threatening to soar into the higher registers that made him sound kind of insane.

"Nobody's rioting."

"Not _yet_!" Bill panted, weaving on his feet, "how many of those Isosceles Royal Guards are going to _remember_ that they were bribed to let this happen?"

"They're Isosce--"

" _DON'T START WITH ME,"_ Bill hissed, his muddled voice taking on an almost hysterical note. _"NOT TONIGHT."_

Flourish caught herself, looked horrified and sat back down. "I-I'm sorry, Bill, I-I..."

"Okay, okay, just let's calm down," Alistair said. "Flourish, you go and check with anybody of ours who's upstairs. Get a glass of water for Bill, I think he's been drugged."

She gasped, jumping to her feet.

"Next, make sure everyone's okay and get any more information you can from them about what's going on outside. Uh, c-call yer dad if you can... he's probably gone home, hopefully if he was able to. Uh, call _my_ Da and make sure he's safe."

"Right," Flourish said and left.

Alistair closed the door behind her and pushed Bill back down in the chair Flourish had just vacated.

"Bill, first, what happened to you?"

"Cerchio attacked me."

"Yeah, y' said tha'. H-- I'm afraid t' ask, _how_?"

"Tried to _convince_ me to have sex with him, _again_." Bill mumbled, hand to his eye, "D-didn't like it when I said no... a-attacked me. He was gonna _make_ me whether I wanted to or not. Seemed to like it when I kept tryin' to make him stop."

"I'm going to kill him."

Alistair's voice was calm, cold and entirely clear.

Bill stared at him.

"Alistair?"

The Rhomboid blinked and shook himself a bit. "Right. Okay. We may have a riot on our hands but right now, th' only thing I can think of, is gettin' to our place, grabbin' our stuff and my Da and gettin' _home_ as quickly as possible."

"How are we going to get home, Alistair?" His brain was beginning to fill with cotton wool.

"Shh, Billy, I have a way," he said softly. "But yer gonna have t' trus' me."

"I-I always trust you, Alistair."

"Right now, I'm gonna have t'ask y' to _really_ trus' me, Bill. Jus'... we gotta get out of this city."

He reached out and hugged Bill tightly.

"God, I'm so sorry Bill..."

"It's okay, Alistair," Bill heard himself saying through an increasingly sickly fog. _God, he was so sweet! So handsome. So perfect..._ "I'm okay. Don't worry. I'm okay... I love you..."

"I love you too. Shhh..."

***

"Free For All! Free For All!"

The chant rang through the streets of Pantocyclus. The Militia and the Royal Guard fanned out throughout the city, hunting for anyone they thought might have had something to do with the disaster at the Chief's Artistic Reception that night. The shocked and scared relatively innocent city-folk were only trying to get back to their homes, _encouraged_ at times by the sharp angles of the Isosceles policemen and the substantial bulk of their Square and Pentagon commanders. 

This was a disaster. 

Bill's brain was still fuzzy but fury was beginning to burn some of that fog off. He'd never intended or _dreamed_ that people would take matters into their own hands so _fast_. Flourish said that the city was a powder keg, just waiting for someone to set a match to it. He realized that he never did have a real _idea_ how fine an edge it was teetering on.

Those who'd been responsible for what was now being called 'the attack' on the Palace, who did everything they could to stir the confusion and dissent, were now making a point to divert the attention of the Militia, protecting anyone who they saw as being bullied or threatened by the City's guardians. There had been little violence on the part of the rebellion themselves but they weren't all the Militia had to deal with. Those innately rebellious types, the ones who enjoyed rabble-rousing, took up the cry immediately and were making trouble with anyone and everyone they encountered. They were a little _harder_ to deal with.

Bill, Alistair, Varien and their handlers used the efforts of the rebels to clear out their apartments as quickly as they could and make for the outskirts of the city in Varien's small fleet of two cars.

"Drink this," Alistair said, pressing another glass of water into his hand.

The fact was, neither the non-Polygonal policemen, nor _his_ rebels, really _wanted_ to fight with anyone. That hadn't been the point of this exercise. What Bill knew Flourish and the more radical members of the Pantocyclus Cell had been counting on, was the unpredictability of the City's non-Polygonal street-toughs. The very thing Bill _didn't_ want to happen.

Once they made the border, things changed. The lights of the city were brighter than Bill remembered, brighter and punctuated with bright, intermittent flares of what had to be explosions or fires.

He'd only planned to explode the ballroom ceiling and drop the banner into the party, where everyone, from Cerchio himself and his spoilt Polygons, servants, paid media reporters to the hangers-on and the masses of commoner crowds outside could see it and read and _think about_ its message. It was to be a shot over the bow, a warning.

Not the first volley of what looked to be a war.

Apparently Flourish's Subversives decided it needed to be that very thing.

Things were bad in the Prefectures, he was very aware of that. That was _why_ he'd advised _caution_. The more he thought about it, the further they sped away from the City, the angrier he got.

The Rebellion wanted a war, well it looked like they got it.

***

They reached the edge of the massive circle that marked the border of the Pantocyclus Prefecture. It was dark, icy cold and silent.

From this distance, the city looked like a bright glittering silver ring occasionally lit with the flares of fires or smaller explosions.

Bill was legitimately sick and seething by now.

"William?" Alistair said softly from beside him. "Hey, look at me."

Bill turned his eye towards Alistair.

"It's gonna be okay, jus', look at me a moment."

"Alistair?"

"Remember. You trust me, don't you? So just, shh...." Alistair leaned in and kissed him.

Dark, comforting warmth surrounded him as his eye fluttered closed and he felt himself fall into Alistair's strong, firm _, safe_ embrace.

The sound of wind through the trees filled his senses and he could smell the scent of pine needles...

He didn't recall anything else.

***

_Cyran Prefecture, Late Summer_

When Bill opened his eye, he was lying in his bed, in the little room he used to have in Alistair's house.

The window was open because he could smell the scent of the pine trees and hear the soft gurgling of water in the fountain in the garden just below.

He sat up, looked around and saw a card on the nightstand, next to a plate of lemon poppy-seed cake and a cup of what he assumed was coffee.

_Come down when you're ready. ~A_

The coffee was still warm, not hot, so he knew Alistair hadn't been gone from his side long.

As he sipped the coffee and wolfed down his mother's cake, he wondered. How had they gotten here? From Pantocyclus, it was still several hours, nearly a day's worth of a trip by car, yet it was clearly morning outside. Had he slept the entire way? What was the date? Was it tomorrow? Or the next day?

Alistair said to trust him and he did, completely, but still, Bill's brain couldn't just accept that Alistair, somehow, had made him sleep the entire time. Oh sure, after that horrible encounter with Cerchio, the Subversives' crazy catastrophe and him bolting down that potent martini he'd been given, he'd been tired and wobbly and nearly incandescent with rage. He supposed that would take quite a bit out of a man, even one as sturdy as he was.

With a sigh, he got to his feet, rummaged around in his closet for a favorite soft light gray bathrobe and made his way to the small en suite attached to his cozy little room.

***

"Hullo, Bill," Alistair said, as Bill walked into the sitting room, freshly showered and feeling a bit better now that he was someplace warm and _quiet_.

"How long has it been?" Bill said, frowning. "I didn't _sleep_ the entire way, did I?"

Alistair sighed. "You said you trusted me, Bill."  
"And I do, I just need to know."

"It's been two days," Alistair said softly. "Yes, you did sleep the whole way, because you were drugged, just like I was afraid of. So I just... made sure you slept it off. I... _hypnotized_ you. I'm sorry."

Bill blinked and stared at him. "How did you know?" His memories of everything after he'd stumbled into the ballroom were spotty, fuzzy.

"I guessed. I hoped I wasn't right. I know enough to know when someone's been drugged, unfortunately it happens a lot in the Capitol. I had to learn fast."

"Alistair--?"

"I'm sorry Bill. I just had to do what I thought was best. _Fast_."

Bill sat down. "Bastard."

"I-I'm _sorry--_ "

"No, not you. _Him_."

"Cerchio."

"Yes. I-I'll--"

"Shh, Bill."

"Why? We _feel free_ here all the time!"

Alistair looked around and his angles slumped. "Anymore, I don't know. They know where we are, where we're from. Da and I have swept th' house for microphones an' haven't found anythin' but even so..."

Bill nodded and slumped himself. "Yeah."

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Bill tilted his angle and nodded a bit. "Yeah, I could use some fresh air."

***

_The Ruins_

They sat on one of the stones in the center of the ruins of the ancient library, leaning against each other in silence.

"I never wanted to actually kill someone before," Bill said. "Not even Secant, not really. I mean, I just acted. In defense of everyone, me, you, everyone. I didn't really _feel_ anything when I was doin' it either. Or after. It was just... somethin' that had to be done. I don't regret it. Even now, I don't even _feel_ anything about it. I didn't _care_. I didn't hate him, either. I-I didn't _care_ , one way or another. I was angry. That was _all_."

"And Cerchio?"

"I _hate_ him. With a passion. I _want_ to kill him. He would have humiliated me and enjoyed every minute of it. He didn't _care_ about me either. I was just a prize, a _toy_. When he was bored with me, maybe he would have killed me, just to make sure nobody else got me. No, there's no _maybe_ , he _would_ have. I just know it."

"Do you think he will retaliate?"

"Yeah, I do," Bill said. "He actually insinuated that you were going to be out of my life in one way or another. I believe he was meaning to _remove_ you. I had to correct him; I told him you are my fiancé and he repeated: _boyfriend_. He made it clear, just before he attacked me."

"If you don't kill him, I will."

Bill closed his eye, a shudder going through him.

"This is bad. Really, really _bad_. He's not gonna stop, Alistair. He's gonna think I humiliated him, even if he can't trace me to the _message_ the resistance sent that night. If he finds out that it was _my_ idea--"  
"He _won't_ , Bill. H-he _won't_."

"If they catch one of them, what's to say they won't talk?"

"Hardly anyone knows it was your idea. They only know Cipher."

"Yeah, Cipher." Bill's mind cleared a little more. Cipher, yeah. Code names had been his idea. He _was_ Cipher.

_Bill Cipher._

"Bill! Alistair!"

He hadn't expected to feel _joy_ at the sound of Daniel's voice but he did. He sat bolt upright and stared at the figure of the Square and Nan and four other Shapes that were running towards them, laughing with delight.

"You're back!" Nan cried and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"Watch that!" Bill cried back, hugging her, "Yer gonna _truncate_ me!"

Nan laughed, squeezing him hard. "We _missed_ you! We were all so _proud_ of you and then--"

"Yeah, _then,_ " Dan said, the mood of the group crashing down around them. "We were _terrified_. Thank Spherius you're alright."

Bill blinked and then looked at Alistair and Nan.

"Well, he's not thankin' th' _Circles_ ," Alistair muttered. "Tha's somethin'."

" _Daniel_ , for the millionth time, Spherius isn--" Nan began, rolling her eye.

"It's an _expression_ , Nancy."

"It's a stupid expression, _Daniel_." Nan still hated being called 'Nancy'. Bill blinked and laughed lightly, feeling as though years of stress were lifted from him, even though it'd been only a year since they'd gone away.

"We missed you guys too," Bill said softly. "And we're safe. Thanks to Alistair."

"That disaster, that was you, wasn't it?" Dan said softly.

"It was my _idea_ ," Bill said with a sigh. "The resistance decided to spin it into their own thing. I didn't advocate a demonstration, or the rioting that followed. It was supposed to be a _warning_ , a statement. A shot over the bow. Not an attack."

"So you're Cipher."

"Yeah." Bill drew in a deep breath. "Might as well tell the truth to you guys anyway. If I'm rememberin' right, and bear with me, my brain's still a bit foggy, you guys are in the leadership of the Cyran resistance."

"Foggy?" Nan said, shooting Alistair a look.

"Later," Alistair said.

"Dan is the current leader's lieutenant," Nan said. "Cosine will want to meet you."

"Cosine?"

"He's the leader. My father."

Bill blinked. The only teacher in Secondary he'd liked, Daniel's father, was now leading the Cyran resistance.

"Codenames here too?"

"It was a good idea," Dan said. "We all have them. Nobody knew who Cipher was but we all liked his ideas. To find out it was _you_ , well it just makes sense now. We thought that Cipher had ordered the attack, _everything_ that happened. We were stunned. I'm glad to find out you _didn't_ approve all that. We thought Cipher was finally going to make things right. _Do_ things right."

"And he will," Bill said. "From _here_."

He drew in a deep breath.

"We may not have a choice anymore, since the Pantocyclus resistance seems to think that violence is the only way they're going to be heard. If the other cells decide that is what needs to be done as well, we're going to find ourselves smack in the middle of a revolution we don't want and honestly, in my opinion, we don't _need_. But it looks like it's too late for that."

He frowned, shaking his angle.

"So the only thing we can do at this point is _protect_ ourselves. We don't _want_ to fight but we need to make sure that we can if we have to. We need to make sure that we know how to use weapons, that we have stores of food and safe places to go. We need to make sure we can protect our own and keep everyone safe, no matter if they want to fight with us or not."

He stood and began to pace, arms behind his Shape.

"I think we should contact the other groups, find out who is wanting to go to _war_ with the Pantocyclus resistance and who is like us, who wants to protect our own from reprisals. The Circles know that there's an active resistance. If they suspected before, that disaster on my birthday will have convinced them. They're going to be hunting for anyone who expresses sympathy with our cause, whether they're _actually_ resistance or not. If they begin to suspect the locations of _all_ the active Subversive groups, they _may_ decide to assert their control. To make sure the outlying Prefectures are still under their sway. Our Prefect is a Circle and he's directly related to House Pantocyclus. More directly than--" he spat, "Cerchio. He's not gonna stand for any insurgence from his Prefecture."

He cleared his throat.

"We gotta go underground. We don't have a choice now. We gotta protect ourselves but what's more, we gotta protect the innocents. Our _families_. The townsfolk and the poor people _, all_ the people who just want a normal life, free of oppression and fear." He sighed. "Free. For. _All_."

Daniel nodded.

"Come to my house for coffee tonight, Bill."


	10. Cipher

_Late Autumn, Cyran Prefecture_

"Bill, I have bad news."

Bill looked up from the desk he'd set up in the alchemy lab in the Ruins, sighing as Dan stood in the entrance arch, looking, well, like Dan always did these days: tired and frustrated.

"What's new?" Bill grumbled. "What is it now?"

"We lost another one. Rylan Prefecture. It's under martial law. The cell there's gone quiet. I'm sorry."

"Rylan?" Bill closed his eye, rubbing it. "That was fast."

"Yeah, too fast. The info coming out of Pantocyclus is just as bad. I don't know for sure but I _think_ they may be getting closer to the Hughs."

" _Shit_." He took a deep breath. "We need to extract them."

"Alistair's already way ahead of you. He's forming a rescue mission right now."

"Alistair?" A horrible feeling surged through him.

"I think he's gonna head up the team. He was talking like it."

Bill shook his apex. "No, no, no... he can't..." He got up and headed towards the door. "I have to stop him."

"That's why I thought you should know..."

Bill pushed past Dan and ran up the stairs, looking for the Rhomboid. "Where is he?"

"The gardens, with the team," Dan said, hurrying behind him.

"Alistair!" The horrible feeling was getting worse, deepening into a gnawing _fear_.

Bill rushed into the center of the Ruins, heading towards the ancient garden that was now pretty much part of the forest. 

"Alistair!" If Alistair went, Bill was _certain_ , he wouldn't be coming _back_!

The Rhomboid was talking to several Shapes. He turned at Bill's voice. "Bill? Aw dammit."

"You can't do this!"

"I know the city. Besides you, I'm th' only one who _can_ ," Alistair said firmly, "an' _you_ certainly are _not_ going."

"These people are smart, give them detailed directions, a _map_ , just don't go!"

Bill stood in the garden ruins. Alistair stared back at him. "Bill, this is _not_ the time to be selfish."

"I'm _not_ , it's just--" He looked around at the other Shapes, who were all staring as well. "Alistair, I need to talk to you. _Alone_."

"This isn't th' time--"

"ALISTAIR!" his voice pitched up sharply and he winced. "N-now!"

"Fine."

The Rhomboid walked over to him, taking him by the arm and pulled him off into a more secluded grove.

"Alistair, just, _please_ , don't go. I-I don't know why, but I just have a horrible feeling about this."

"What do you mean, Bill?"

"What if it's a _trap_? I wouldn't put it past Cerchio to pull somethin' like that, just to drive us out into the open."

"We can't leave the Hughs there alone."

"I know that, but send a team, don't go yourself."

"Bill...?" Alistair softened, gazing into the Triangle's eye. "You, you're really _worried_ about this, aren't you?"

_Why would he_ say _something like that?_ "Of course, Alistair," he said softly, "I _love_ you. I-I don't want to _lose_ you."

"You're _terrified_."

Bill swallowed hard. "Yes," he admitted, looking down. "You don't _know_ that man. This... it just seems like the perfect opportunity for him to get to you."

"He doesn't _know_ we're involved with the resistance, Bill. We've checked and double-checked. _Nobody_ knows."

"I-I don't know," Bill said. "I just have this _feeling_. It's a trap, I know it with every fiber in my angles."

"I can't sacrifice the Hughs or risk our people on something I'm not willing to face myself. You feel the same way."

"I know that," Bill growled. "I'm just worried. It's possible that Cerchio already _has_ the Hughs and he's using them as _bait_ , to flush us into the open. You know as well as I do that Creon won't hold up under interrogation... or torture. He'll break."

Alistair looked at him a long, silent minute. Everything Bill said was true, Bill knew that Alistair knew that.

"Flourish would fight back."

"Until they break her too. Literally."

"She'd take a few of them with her."

Well yes. As a Line, Flourish was a natural weapon. It was a primary reasons Lines were suppressed in Flatland society as much as they were.

"I... I can't _lose_ you, Alistair."

Alistair took a deep breath. "Bill, look. I'm not stupid. I'm not _weak_ , either."

"Alistair, I'm not sayin' that--"

"Yeah, I know, I know. But what I'm sayin' is that, I-I've got abilities you don't know about. I can keep everyone safe _and_ get the Hughs out if they're in trouble. I _won't_ get caught. I _won't_ get killed." He took in a deep breath. "Remember, you trus' me, right? I got you out of Pantocyclus intact, didn't I? I got me Da and our servants out safe. I can get these people in and out and I won't get hurt. _Please_ , Bill. Y-y' gotta _trust_ me on this. No matter what, even if it goes south, I'll get out an' I'll bring Creon an' Flourish an anyone else that's left with me."

He offered a thin smile.

"Don't worry, Bill, Cerchio _won't_ touch me."

Bill looked at him. He was strong, sturdy, firm and handsome. He wasn't the boy Bill had first fallen in love with anymore. Alistair Kendrick was a fully-grown Shape. A Rhomboid of considerable stature and reliability. He was a man, a man Bill loved with all his heart.

"Trust me."

Despite his misgivings, despite his fears and terror at losing him, Bill nodded. He _trusted_ Alistair. He'd already trusted Alistair with his _life_. He trusted _Alistair_. Perhaps more than he had _anyone else_ in his life, even his father.

"Alright Alistair," he said softly. "I trust you."

***

Bill paced.

"Bill..."

He continued to pace. Agitation radiated from him as he continued to walk restlessly from one side of Dan's living room, to the other.

"Bill..."

He continued.

"Bill, c'mon," Nan said finally, "you'll wear a path in the carpet. At least sit down and have a cup of coffee."

"I can't."

Dan sighed and looked at Nancy. "You trust him, right? He knows what he's doing. Please, at least sit down a moment."

Bill paused.

"I need to know what's going on there."

"They'll call. We'll hear on the news if anything goes sideways."

"Yeah, so far it's just the same old thing: crazies running around and yelling 'upwards not northwards'. I doubt they even know what that means."

"Not 'free for all'?"

"Only the rebellion does that now. I think it's been declared illegal to say that in the Capitol now."

"Makes sense," Bill said with a deep sigh. He looked over at her, exhaustion overtaking him so suddenly he wobbled on his feet. 

Dan caught him and helped him to the sofa.

"You said coffee?" Bill muttered.

"Yeah, just a sec, I'll get you a fresh cup," Nan said and headed into the kitchen.

"Dan, the short wave," Dan's father called from the study. "Message."

Bill nearly bolted to his feet before Dan's hand firmly pushed him back down into the sofa. "It's a check-in. That's all."

Nan brought him a cup of hot coffee and sat down next to him as Dan went to join his father in the study.

Cosine, Dan's father, was a Square named Theus. He was now retired from the publishing company, living on his pension with his son. Dan worked at their Secondary school himself now, as an assistant instructor while he worked on his teaching degree. He taught a few classes on his own, including History of all things. 

He lived with and cared for his elderly father with the help of Nancy, who'd they'd arranged to be their housekeeper. It kept the two together, kept Theus and his _real_ work safe and both of the young Figures out of the eye of the Ministry of Social Unions, since they were both employed in positions serving the community. They'd _had_ to Register but they had yet to be Paired, due to the delays and protests against it in their senior year and the continued efforts of the old History club and their friends to peacefully protest Pairing. Many young Shapes refused to be Paired now and with unrest rising throughout the country, the Village decided to pick their battles.

Which they had, when the eye of the Capitol turned to fix on their small Prefecture. Tveir Cyclonus, the Prefect, who had a deep dislike of Cerchio personally, decided he didn't care for the Chief's attempts at ferreting out dissent in his Prefecture. He handled things himself and for him that meant allowing the bare minimum of Capitol Militia in the province, and those who were there answered to him and him alone.

While this kept Cyran a bit freer, it also meant Cyclonus was watching all of them personally, including Trikampis Village. If they slipped up and his men saw it, they were sunk.

"Okay," Dan said, coming back into the living room. "Alistair's okay. The team is okay. They're holed up in the base, but _Orbits_ is compromised."

"And the Hughs?" Bill asked shakily.

"Flourish is with them. But the others from the _Orbits_ base are dead."

Bill blinked. "How? Why?"

"Alistair says there was an ambush. You were right, it was a trap. There was a fight and people got truncated." Dan swallowed hard. "Flourish is hurt. She was leading the fighting. Alistair says it's not good." He drew in a deep breath. "He says he's gonna get everyone he can out through the underground tonight. There's more, Bill, but he wants to talk to you."

Bill got to his feet, slowly, stiffly, shaking.

"Alright," he said in a firm tone he didn't feel. "Let me talk to him."

Dan led the way into the study. Theus stood up and let Bill take his seat behind the desk where the short wave was set up. 

"Cipher here."

"Cipher, this is Laurynas." 'Laurynas' was Alistair's codename. Bill had no idea what it meant to Alistair but it certainly was uncommon enough and it wasn't anything anyone would connect to Alistair.

"Free for all," Alistair said. That meant the line was _probably_ untapped but it was best to stay in code. "Cipher, they got the scientist."

Bill felt the world come crashing down around him.

"And Scroll?"

"Truncated. I don't think she's going to survive the night."

"Bring them home, Laury."

"On my way."

***

Bill was screaming. He was standing in the middle of their alchemy lab, screaming his apex off.

Nobody was here. They'd made a point of letting him go as soon as they'd heard Alistair's report.

He'd closed the call, walked quietly into the living room, drank his coffee and left the house. As soon as he was away from the center of town, he ran. Using paths only he and Alistair knew, not even the resistance, he ran into the forest, through his beloved trees: pines and birches, weaving in and out until he'd finally reached the secret entrance to the Ruins. He was furious, scared and nearly insane but he wasn't an idiot. There was no way, even as crazy as he felt, he was going to give away his secret routes, or compromise the Ruins.

He stood in the lab, screaming incoherently for a long time, until his voice was hoarse and he dropped to his knees, panting.

The only way he could have felt worse than he did at this moment, was if _Alistair_ had been caught.

No, he didn't know Creon Hugh well but he liked him. Even so, that wasn't why he was screaming.

Hugh was no freedom fighter, not really. Flourish was.

Hugh was a good man. A man who loved science. A gentle, brilliant scientist who was horrified at what his job had become, at the things they'd made him do. He wanted to change things, the only way he could think of. He'd hated bringing his daughter into his fight. 

Flourish was dying and Creon was already dead, or would be, soon.

And Bill _knew_ , as certainly as he knew he was sixty degrees exactly on all angles, that before Creon died, Cerchio would know _who_ Cipher was.

And when he did, Bill's life wouldn't be worth a penny coin.

And neither would Alistair's. Or Varien's.

And eventually, Dan's, Nancy's and everyone else in Cyran Province.

***

_Sixty degrees that come in threes;_

_Watches within birch trees_

_***_

_It cannot be allowed._

_You have broken the Laws of the Multiverse, by sending him._

_**~I do what I want. He is clever. He is the best. If he does his job well, I care not.**_

_You have created a rift that will not be sealed, should he be allowed to continue. He has broken many rules, gotten_ involved _in ways he shouldn't have. He has fallen in love._

_**~I care not for his attachments. He is the best and I desire this creature he has found to serve Me. He uses the ways he has used for eternity. I care not for this minion, only for his catch.**_

_You will be stopped. You should never have attempted to collect such a one. These beings have created their own destruction, as many others of their kind have done before this. By sending Your agent, You have forever altered the fate of the Multiverse._

_I see beyond You._

_Your callousness towards Your minions will be Your undoing._

_The Great Entropic Void does not Forgive. It does not Forget. It will eventually take what You have denied it, by any means necessary. Even You cannot force the Void to change Its course. You are NOT the Empress of the Multiverse. Only the Atae. You have overstepped your boundaries and You will reap the rewards of Your folly._

**_~I_ AM _THE ATAE._**

_No. You are only its' Empress. You are a_ small _god. You and Your kind serve a Purpose but even You are not All Powerful._

_Your own Children and Their devotees are turning from Your service, are seeing You as You Truly Are. Even they are growing beyond their need for Gods like You._

**_~Silence. You are only the True Neutral. You cannot stop Me._ **

_That is true. I cannot stop You. I may only watch and observe and help those who Call My Name. I can however see those who may be able to stop You. I_ see _them. I watch. If they Call Me, I_ will _help them._

**_~I_ AM _ALL POWERFUL. I_ am _God. The Goddess. I AM the Empress of the Atae and I may do what I wish, TAKE what I wish, from ANYTHING I wish. INCLUDING the Great Void._**

_That is Your sin, Your folly. You will create chaos and destruction by allowing this to continue. Already there have been ripples in the Multiverse that are creating tears in the fabric of reality. These are irreparable and have increased the process of interdimensional entropy._

_You cannot be allowed to continue Your interference in the mortal realm._

_**~You cannot stop me.**_

_Already You are being stopped. Not by Me. I only came to warn You. Cease Your interference, lest you find Yourself consumed by the Chaos._

**~I WILL DEVOUR THE VOID.**

The Great Neutral sighed in the no-space, no-time of Its eternal existence. 

_No. You will not. The Void will devour You._

***

_The Ruins, two days later._

Bill cried. Softly in the garden of birches and pines where he'd last seen Alistair. 

He sat, curled into as much of a ball as his Shape allowed, rocking back and forth, crying. Not sobbing, just crying like the tiny Triangle he once was.

The rescue mission had returned, quietly bearing the now lifeless body of Flourish, whom they'd buried with honors in the tiny Village cemetery, hundreds of miles from where she'd been born, grown up, fought and eventually, been killed.

They'd returned but Alistair had not been with them.

Nobody knew what had happened to him. He'd gotten them nearly to the borders of Cyran, when they'd lost him. On the way out of Pantocyclus there'd been a number of surprise attacks by the Circle Militia, ambushes and fights that Alistair had led them through, managing to keep most of their little group intact, while picking up innocents and refugees along the way. The attacks had begun almost as soon as they'd made a run for it, indicating that those rebels the Circles had captured had either talked or been _made_ to, which only increased Alistair's urgency to get everyone out safe.

People were sketchy on the rest of it, though. Several said there were times when everything had fallen into darkness and confusion and when things cleared, they seemed to be miles away from where they'd begun, sometimes in small groups, sometimes all of them. Once, during a particularly bad fight with the Circle's elite, the entire group lost vision and everyone passed out. The common conclusion was that the Circles were using some kind of chemical agent to try and poison them.

The last time he'd been seen was when they got to the borders of Cyran and were ambushed again by the Circle Militia. By that time, they were all exhausted but Alistair even more so. He was lost in the fighting. It wasn't that he'd been hurt or taken captive, it was simply that, one moment he was there, fighting and the next, he just _wasn't_.

Bill was inconsolable.

He did what he had to do, of course, he'd taken charge of the stunned and battered mission, ordered rest and respite for the refugees, honored the fallen, made plans, secured things that must be secured. 

He did his job, he helped, directed, _commanded_. He had to. They'd all been looking to him as their _real_ leader for months now and he had to show them their loyalty and trust was well-founded.

Then, once he was certain things were alright for the time being, Bill went to tell Alistair's father, Varien, that Alistair had been lost.

Alone, in the great house he shared with Alistair and his father, Varien sat in his study, quiet, sorrowing, as though he already knew his son was gone.

Varien's reaction, Bill had reasoned, was due to the shock.

When Bill told him, the Square looked at him with an empty, haunted eye. He inclined his top slope, just barely and turned back to his desk, staring at the surface in front of him, unseeing, like an automaton.

"Varien? Sir?"

"Thank you, William," Varien said in a lifeless tone.

That was the last thing the gentleman said that night.

Leaving the nearly comatose man with the one servant they had left, the one servant Varien loved and trusted, the little Line, Risa, Bill stumbled out of the house. It was only _then_ , that Bill ran to the forest, to the ruined garden, crumpled to the ground and began to cry.


	11. Some Sunny Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter. Cipher continues to lead the resistance and Bill and Karolis have a heart to heart.

_Winter, Several Weeks Later, Cyran Province_

_The Ruins, Cipher's Laboratory_

The ancient alchemy lab that had once been Bill and Alistair's secret hideaway was now Bill's center of operations. He'd created as sophisticated a setup as he was capable of, with his considerable knowledge of science, technology and tactics. Having learned more during his time with Alistair and his year in the City, Bill had created a solid network between his people and the other resistance cells throughout the country.

With as impressive as it was, it had been little comfort to him in the hellish days following the return of the rescue mission. He had to be a leader and leaders couldn't take time to drown their sorrows any more than he already had. People knew he was mourning, even encouraged him to take some time away from the responsibilities he'd taken on, to try and deal with his misery. Bill refused. The work was more important than his own emotions, he'd told them and besides, the work helped him stay focused. When he was coordinating and planning and keeping things safe, he didn't think about Alistair, about him being _gone._ He didn't allow himself to dwell on what might have _happened_ to the man, what _might_ be happening to him.

No, he only thought about _that_ when he lay awake in his room in the Kendrick house, sleepless, trying to rest. It was only then that his wild imaginings began to take hold of him.

After Alistair vanished, Bill considered moving back to his parents' cottage. With Varien's condition only getting worse, Bill felt it was better for him to stay, keeping the gentleman company, keeping Risa company as she tried to care for the devastated Square. Bill's parents agreed, visiting Varien often, talking to him, staying with him and trying to bring him out of what could only be described as severe melancholia. 

Bill, Risa, Karol and Louisa were worried. They discussed the possibility of medical care but the man didn't seem to be unhealthy or ill, other than his deep depression. And though none of them said it, they were afraid of the truth of his depression being revealed to the government by the medical authorities. 

Varien was lethargic, silent, moving around only when assisted and eating only when asked. He was like an automaton. It scared all four of them but they had no other option than to care for him and watch him and hope that eventually, he might come out of it.

Bill didn't mind taking care of Varien, he loved the man. He didn't mind overseeing the resistance movement, he cared for his friends and the people of Flatland. He didn't even mind when the resistance began increasingly turning to him for leadership, _all_ the resistance, even the most militant of groups.

He was, as he'd written not that long ago, _the Cipher_. He was Cipher, leader of the Flatland Resistance. Cipher, commander of the Subversives. 

And he knew that Vyraius Cerchio knew _who_ Cipher was.

William Sifras, the young Triangle who'd refused him, who denied and fought off his sexual advances and was responsible for the destruction of his Palace and later, his stranglehold on his country.

Bill knew a man like that would have hated him _simply_ for the insult of refusing to become his consort. Adding to that his general affiliation with the Subversives, his planning of the attack on the Palace and now, his clear and competent leadership of the resistance, well, it simply wouldn't be bearable. Not for a man like Cerchio.

Cerchio was too arrogant, too egocentric to be anything but incensed by Bill's rebellion. He'd take it personally. _Too_ personally.

Bill had increased guards around the Kendrick house, suggested that his parents might want to move in with them for their own safety. They didn't really want to leave their own cottage and he didn't blame them, it was the only thing they had that was entirely theirs. At the same time they really wanted to be closer to Varien, to help the man they considered part of the family, however they could.

After a bit of a discussion in which they'd even tried to ask Varien about it, they'd agreed to move in. His answer had been a slight incline of his upper side, which was more than they'd expected and hoped to see from him, so they decided it was a good sign, at least where the Square gentleman was concerned.

The move was planned at the end of the month, since it would take the Sifras' that long to pack, close up the house and make sure their things were safe.

***

Bill considered all of this as he sat in his lab, at his desk, staring at lists and plans and communiques from the other groups, regarding the movements of the Circle Militia throughout the Outer Prefectures. He'd been spending the last hour updating the rosters, marking out the cells that had been compromised, disbanded or _vanished_.

"Alistair," he whispered, dropping his apex to his desk a moment, lying there, eye closed. "I need you."

_I know. I'm sorry._

He'd been so tired lately, he'd heard Alistair's voice in his dreams often and this time seemed no different. He supposed he was falling asleep on his desk again and for just this once, he didn't care. It was so nice to hear his voice, it didn't matter if it was another dream.

"Please don't be dead, your father can't take any more."

_I know. I-I want to be with you._

"I can't take any more."

_I... I'm not. Dead, I mean. I-I'm trying to come back to you. Please, just hold on a little more._

Bill went very still. He wasn't asleep, he was sure of it. And this, this wasn't a dream.

_No, you're not dreaming._

He pushed up a bit, blinking. "Alistair?"

_Remember when I said I could do a few things? That I had_ ways? _Remember when I asked you to trust me? You're going to have to continue to trust me. I'll tell you everything soon._

"Alright," Bill breathed, "just, please come back. I-I love you. I don't know if I can keep doing this alone."

_Bill, you_ are _doing it. You've_ always _been doing it. I only helped. It's always been_ you _._

"You're telepathic," Bill whispered. "You always have been, haven't you?"

_Yes, well._

Bill felt a laugh bubbling up inside him. When it came out, it sounded a little hysterical.

_God, Billy, I love you. Please don't give up, you can do this. I'll be back with you soon and then I'll tell you everything, I promise. Trust me._

"I'll always trust you, Alistair."

_I love you, Bill._

"I love you too," Bill sighed.

***

_Late Winter, Trikampis Village_

_Sifras Cottage_

"I think that's it, Mom," Bill said, looking around at the cartons around the living room. "We'll take this last bunch to storage and they'll be safe. The house should be locked up and you take the keys with you. I'll go get Dad."

Louisa nodded her eye and looked around. "I have the keys in my bag. I'll meet you and your father out front."

Bill went into the kitchen and out the back patio door to the garden.

Karol was standing in the garden, looking at the dormant plants. "I hate to leave them like this," he said as Bill approached. "I don't want to leave the house--"

"I know but we will keep an eye on it. It will be alright. Nobody will take it from you. This is only temporary, until--uh, until things are better. U-until Varien is better."

"Bill," his father said, "you're doing so well, better than I ever dared to imagine you would, but--"

"It's alright, Dad. I just want to keep you safe."

"Yes," Karol said. "I know you do." He turned to look at his son. "I want you to know, William, your mother and I are so very _proud_ of you. So very proud."

Bill nodded and glanced down, feeling a flush in his angle. "Dad, you don't have to say--"

"No, Bill. This is important. I am so very proud. You have done things I could never have dreamed, made such a difference already, even if it had to be this way. Sometimes, son, things need to be shaken up for change to ever be assured. And freedom is more important than anything. I know you've tried very hard to keep things sane and safe, I know you haven't always succeeded, I know you're willing to fight for your friends and your family. Through all of this, I have supported you. Your mother has supported you. Varien and his family have supported you.

"You have made me very proud to be a Sifras. Very proud to have you as a son."

Bill fought down a hard gulp at his father's words. Love welled up inside him and he looked into his father's eye.

"Thank you, Dad," he managed, nodding again. "I-I'm proud to be your son. So proud." He swallowed hard. "I am so sorry for everything I said--"

"No, don't apologize, Bill. Never apologize for wanting more than you were given. Never apologize for seeking your dreams."

Bill drew in a deep breath. "We should probably go. The people who are taking your things to storage will be here soon, then we can lock the house."

"Alright."

They walked through the empty cottage to the front door, where Louisa was waiting for them.

"It's getting pretty cold out," Bill said, pausing. "Here, Mom, give me the keys. You guys go on ahead to the Kendricks' before it gets too much colder and I'll just stay to close the house."

"Oh? Perfect, we can get there just in time for tea and I can help Risa with dinner. Maybe between us we can talk Varien into having some tea this time." She handed the keys to Bill and kissed his apex. "Love you, sweetheart. See you soon."

Bill's eye smiled a little and he nodded. "Go ahead, try and see if he'll have some of your lemon cake. He loves it almost as much as I do."

"See you soon, Bill," his father said, kissing his apex as well. "Love you."

"Love you too," Bill said.

***

Bill stood in his family's tiny garden, house keys in hand, as night fell.

He couldn't leave the place. 

The house was locked, windows battened down and secured against any weather that might occur while it was unoccupied, the chimney cleared, the flue shut, the basement locked securely and all the rooms emptied and cleaned. The garden's plants were covered and dormant, everything was safe and closed.

Closed.

He didn't want to leave this house any more than his parents had. His father had poured his life into this house, saved for years to pay it off, repaired and remodeled and cared for it like one of his own children. His mother loved it, decorated and cleaned it and spent most of her life here, taking care of Bill and creating her wonderful crafts and bakery masterpieces in the kitchen, working in the garden that both she and her husband loved.

Bill grew up in this house. He played here as a child, read in the garden as a teenager, hid books in a loose board in his bedroom wall, snuck out of the window on nights where he and Alistair would run out to the ruins to snuggle, giggle, learn each other and make love. He'd even checked his room before he locked the house, to make sure that all the secret books were indeed gone. They were.

But even so, with all of their possessions safely hidden away in the Resistance caves near the Ruins, this house was _theirs_. It was only, entirely theirs. It belonged to the Sifras family. It was a sculpture, a portrait, an artwork of the Sifras' life.

He sighed.

"They'll come back," he whispered to the dormant flowers, to the cottage. "They'll make you live again. Don't worry. Sleep now. Just sleep and when the spring is here, they'll be home."

It was pitch dark now. He didn't really even know what time it was. Taking a deep breath, he turned, pocketed the keys in his heavy winter coat and walked around the exterior of the cottage, to the silent, dark street outside.

So many of the houses were just like his father's, closed, empty of people, of life. The few families who remained were silent, fearful, disinclined to do anything for anyone. To _help_ anyone. He didn't like it but he supposed that they had a right, as long as they didn't betray anyone to the Circles.

He walked down the street, pulling his coat tight to his frame. It was going to be another freeze tonight and he hated it because it reminded him of Pantocyclus. He loved his little village but tonight, the chill sent dreadful, reluctant memories of his last night in the Capitol surging through his apex.

His birthday fell in the last week of late summer, a day he'd always looked forward to for nineteen years. That one night had changed _everything_. It had changed his love of his birthday, his relationship with Alistair, his knowledge of the true depths of corruption that some people could sink to; his _life_. He doubted that he'd ever want to celebrate his birthday ever again in the future.

Maybe when Alistair came back, _that_ day could be his new birthday.

He'd never even been able to open the gifts Alistair had gotten for him, never been able to spend the evening curled up in front of the fire together, making wedding plans and making love until they both fell asleep in each other's arms.

That would have been a pretty good birthday.

No, that would have been the _best_ birthday he could imagine.

_Maybe someday,_ he thought as he walked out of the neighborhood, into the village square, which was just as quiet and shuttered as his old street. _Maybe someday when this is all over, Alistair and I, Mom and Dad, Varien, Risa, Daniel, Nan and_ everyone _can be happy again._

Maybe spring would be different. Better. Happier.

Freer.

***

_The Ruins, Cipher's Laboratory_

"Bill? Hey, Bill?"

Bill mumbled. "Nah, just need more coffee... I'm not sleepin'."

"No, it's okay, you fell asleep on your desk... again."

"Huh?"

Bill lifted his apex from his desk, blinking around blearily. Nan was leaning over him, concern in her eye.

"Bill, something's come up and we need to ask you something."

"What?"

"Are your folks still at the house?"

"Yeah, they should be at the Kendricks' place--"

"No, at your house."

Bill's eye widened. "What? No. I sent them off to Varien's _hours_ ago!"

"They're not there."

"What do you mean: they're not there?! Where else would they _be_?"

"Well, Risa called Theus and Dan, looking for them. She thought maybe they'd stopped off there on their way to the house. Your Mom told her they were expecting to be there by dinner time and they didn't show up."

Bill went ice cold.

"Bill?"

"Search party--"

"Already looking," Nan said. "I, uh... we were trying to find you at the same time and you weren't _here_ , then later when I came back, you _were_. We were worried you'd been with them too--Bill, we're going to find them!"

_No. We're not,_ Bill thought, his Shape beginning to tremble. He looked at Nan.

"I'm going to join the search party--"

"No!" she said firmly, "Bill, we need you here. We can't _risk_ you, you're too important--I-I mean, not that your family _isn't_ , but you can do more good here than out there anyway. Theus is on his way over and Dan's leading the search party. E-even Varien is out helping to look."

_VARIEN?_ "He is?"

"Yeah, as soon as Risa began to panic, Varien seemed to realize she was upset and he forced himself to get up and offered to help. Maybe--"

"God, he can't be out there looking, he's _sick_!"

"Even so, he's out there with Risa and a bunch of the others. Everyone loves your folks, everyone's worried."

"Nan, oh thank god, you found him!" Theus hurried into the lab with several other Figures behind him. He made his way to the communications equipment and began switching things on. "I have radios on the search party and even the local Militia guys are helping to look. Guy named Redd is helping coordinate with them."

Redd. The Isosceles that had given him advice so long ago.

"He's good people," Bill heard himself saying through a fog, "trustworthy."

"The Secondary school is clear," a voice came over the radio. "Nobody's been here over the winter break, the custodian says he hasn't seen anyone."

"Checked the Sifras' house and street--again." Varien's voice. He sounded like the old Varien, strong, confident, firm. "I can't get the idiots on the street to talk to me."

Bill closed his eye, gritting his teeth.

"We're going to have to start questioning the Circle Militia," he said, "Send someone to Cyclonus' mansion, ask if they know anything."

"Bill..." Nan said, her voice shaking, "a-are you sure?"

"Yeah," Bill said firmly, "if you have people all over the Village and nobody's found them, we don't have a choice."

He tried to still the trembling in his body, the _knowing_ that they wouldn't find his parents... _anywhere_.

"Oh, Bill."

"He's right," Theus said quietly, "we have to talk to them." He leaned towards the microphone, "Redd, get some guys over to the Prefect's place, start talking to the Circle Militia."

"On our way, sir."

"Maybe we should send Varien?" Nan said, glancing at Bill. "If you think he's well enough?"

"I don't know," Theus said, "he seems alright but... he's connected to Alistair, what if they know about him?" He frowned with his eye. 

"Send Daniel," Bill said. "He's a respected teacher in the community. Nobody knows he's part of this and he's my friend. I can't think of anyone better. I--I want to protect Varien. His health isn't the best."

"That's true," Theus said with a sigh. "Daniel? I need you to get a group of people, find Redd if you can and go with him to the Cyclonus mansion. We need to know if they know anything about this, or if they know where--" he swallowed hard, "--the Sifras' have gone."

"Cyclonus? Dad... does that mean you think--?"

"Cipher does."

"Oh god. You found him? Yeah. We will."

"Take some of the Village Militia with you."

"Yes, sir. Dad, tell Cipher, I, uh... I-I'm gonna try."

Theus sat back in his chair and looked at Bill and Nan. He huffed out a great sigh, rubbing his eye a moment.

"I'm sorry, Bill," he said softly.

Nobody had to ask why he apologized. They all knew.

They weren't going to find Karolis and Louisa in the Village or the Prefecture. 

They were gone.

And Bill knew who had them.


	12. We're All Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prefect of Cyran Prefecture speaks.

_Cyran Prefecture, Cyclonus Mansion_

"Gentlemen, I apologize for calling you here on such short notice but I thought you'd want to know the information I'd just received as soon as possible."

Bill and Dan were sitting stiffly in the sitting room of the Prefect's mansion, as the Prefect himself paced restlessly in front of them.

Cyclonus shocked them. They'd been prepared for anything from being ordered to leave to being outright arrested when Daniel had come the day before, seeking any information on the disappearance of Bill's parents.

Tveir stunned Dan when he not only invited the search party in but was stunned and concerned at the news that the Sifras' had vanished from the streets of Trikampis Village without a sign. The Circle was further distressed to learn the actual reason why his trusted associate, Varien, had taken a sabbatical from his job.

"He should have told me! I would have done anything to help the poor man find his son."

Now Bill was sitting in Tveir's mansion, watching the Circle pacing agitatedly in front of him.

"I've made some inquiries, Mr. Sifras," he said, "as you probably know, I and the Chief are not on the best terms--" the man paused, his eye narrowing in distaste, "--what he's been doing recently has not increased my like for the man in any way. He's scum and I have no problem saying so in front of you. This is why I've made sure Cyran stays independent of him and his stormtroopers. If there's rebellion in our Prefecture, I will take the responsibility of dealing with it how _I_ see fit."

He took a deep breath. "The only things I have seen from my Prefecture is the rise of a wonderful artistic talent; dedicated, creative people who are willing to help those in distress and an idyllic land that I would do anything to protect from my hated cousin's interference. Your parents are loved, William, as are you and your friends. You've made this Prefecture proud. Your friend Alistair risked his life to help refugees in need." He grumbled. "I apologize, young man, I digress, it's simply that the news I must deliver is not good and it troubles me deeply to have to tell you." He sighed, paused in his pacing and knelt in front of Bill.

Misery and fear churned inside Bill as he stared into the Circle's large, mournful eye.

"Your parents were indeed taken by Cerchio, as I'm afraid you already realized. They're being held under arrest for suspected collusion with the Subversive resistance."

Bill shuddered, dropping his eye into his hands.

"I'm sorry, William. So very sorry. I'm doing what I can to have them returned to us as soon as possible. This accusation is ludicrous, I'm insulted by the very idea that a couple of law-abiding, peaceful townsfolk like your parents could be involved in a revolution."

He patted Bill's angle and stood up.

"William, I formally apologize on behalf of the Pantocyclus House for what it has done to you and your family, to Varien's family."

Bill looked up. "Sir, you don't have--"

"I do. I understand that during your time in the Capitol, my cousin made several very inappropriate advances towards you. Unfortunately, he's known for this kind of reprehensible behavior and it casts a dark shadow over my family's name." He frowned. "I understand my family has not been well-liked in the past and I don't condone their actions. Vyraius Cerchio has done everything in his power to destroy the reputation we'd been striving to rebuild. I know this is small comfort to you in this time but I couldn't let you leave my house without saying this."

Tveir began to pace again. The man was clearly in distress and Bill _believed_ him. He'd been distrustful of Cyclonus from the beginning but it was clear to him and everyone else in the room that the Prefect was upset. Actually, legitimately _upset_.

"Thank you, sir," he said softly.

Tveir grumbled again. "Please ask Varien to call me. I want to help him if I can."

"We will, sir," Dan said.

The Circle paused. He looked as though he were considering something of grave importance, staring at the wall opposite him.

"Leave," he said.

Bill and Dan moved to rise.

"Not you, gentlemen." He looked at the servants who were waiting quietly in their places by the doors. "Please leave. I wish to speak to these young men alone."

"Yes sir."

The servants filed out and the doors closed behind them.

Tveir turned to face the boys.

"William, Daniel, what I am going to say is between you and I. It is in the strictest confidence and I hope you understand when I tell you, what follows is the _truth_. I cannot even trust the members of my staff with what I am about to tell you. I believe you will understand this. If you do, you will know what to do with it."

Bill stiffened and he felt Dan do the same beside him.

"I was not pleased to be sent to run this Prefecture. Cerchio sent me here as a punishment, to get me out of the City due to our-- _differences._ The last thing I wanted was to be Prefect of some backwater outer province full of, what I had been told-- _ahem_ , rustics."

Bill stiffened even more.

"When I arrived here, however, I found something I never knew I wanted. _Cyran_. Your home. A treasure of Nature. Beautiful, quiet, peaceful. With wonderful, creative, intelligent non-Polygons who had created a life in this small province, who were just trying to make the best of what my House had given them. I fell in love with it almost immediately and my family eventually came around as well. Then we found _you_ , William, a genius musical talent that made the most accomplished artists in the city look like rank amateurs. You went on to the City and made us all _proud_ to be from your Prefecture."

He offered a gentle smile to the two of them.

"Daniel, William, I must say, I _love_ it here. I don't ever want to return to Pantocyclus. I feel responsible for keeping my adopted home safe and its people happy."

He considered his next words a moment, then turned back to the two young men.

"I also feel I must tell you, I _hate_ what our society has become. Before I came here, I watched things go from bad to worse and had very little power to stop it. Indeed, I _wanted_ to, but I had no idea how such a thing might be accomplished. It is difficult for even _my_ family to initiate such wide-ranging change. We are not clever in that respect. We're Royals, we're set in our ways. _Stagnating._ " He sighed. "There are things that I know that would curl your angles and I will not repeat them in this house."

He took a deep breath, sitting heavily in a large chair by the fireplace. He looked at the two sitting across from him.

"That said, I _know_ that there is a resistance movement in this province. I know that they are organized, well-led and strong. I believe they make some valid points. Unfortunately, I cannot _officially_ say I support them, you understand. Not officially. However, should this movement make itself known to me, I will not get in their way. I have come to understand that they are doing what I have not been able-- been _allowed_ to do, the only way they can."

He looked at Bill and Dan.

"If you know of these people, please, tell them this. If you do not, perhaps you might consider listening to what they have to say. Your families are caught up in this war, you might need to enlist their help to get them away from it, safely."

"I have only one question, sir," Bill said, his voice level, "if you were to be contacted by these people you speak of, would you help them?"

Tveir looked at him silently a very long moment. 

Then, with a very deep sigh, the Circle inclined his upper half. 

"If I can. Yes."

***

_Kendrick House_

Bill looked at the message he'd written for what had to be the tenth time that hour. He still hesitated sending it but he'd searched his soul and he couldn't find anything deep down inside him, that said that Tveir was _anything_ other than what he said he was.

He wished he could run it past Alistair. He'd not heard from Alistair since the other day and he was beginning to wonder if it'd been the ramblings of an over-worked, over-tired brain.

_I mean, who is_ actually _telepathic? There's been no concrete proof of such abilities in any scientific study on the phenomenon in history._

No, it had to have been a daydream. A welcome daydream but a figment of his imagination nonetheless.

He rubbed his eye. The message was good, well-thought out and as safe as he could make it short of not putting his actual name on it.

_Tveir Cyclonus,_

_I am Cipher. If what I have been told is true, you know of me._

_I am aware of your interest in my group and I am open to further discussion._

_If you wish to assist us, I must have your reassurance that my people will remain safe, else there cannot be any further communication between us._

_Should you wish to continue this conversation, send a reply through the individual you have received this from. I trust him and you should as well._

He sighed. He didn't want to put anyone else on the chopping block, just in case his gut feeling about the Circle was in fact, wrong. He had to deliver it himself, on his own, without Dan or anyone else's knowledge.

He needed a man like Tveir Cyclonus and if he was indeed being honest, Bill could use his influence. The Prefect had already been making attempts to help return his parents and in doing so, he'd provided Bill with more information than he'd been able to get on his own. Tveir had implied, well, not _implied_ , pretty much _confirmed_ that one of the primary reasons Cerchio had his parents arrested was to get to William Sifras, the pianist, the one person who'd rejected him. And Bill had a pretty good suspicion that the other reason was to flush out Cipher.

Why Cerchio hadn't revealed his identity, he wasn't certain, but a part of his mind wondered exactly how much he _really_ knew. Maybe Hugh _hadn't_ actually revealed his identity, maybe this _was_ all just an attempt by a jealous, humiliated man to make Bill do what he wanted. It wasn't much but he had to _hope._

There'd been no further information on the fate of the people that had been captured in the rescue attempt that ended with Alistair missing and Flourish dead. Bill didn't hold much hope that Creon Hugh and the others had survived their imprisonment and interrogation, which made the horrors that awaited his parents even harder to bear.

Which was _why_ Bill had to deliver the message to the Prefect himself.

Taking a deep breath, Bill folded the message, tucked it in his jacket, grabbed his hat, a battered, crushable velvet top hat that was the only thing he'd been able to keep from his time in Pantocyclus City, placed it atop his apex and quietly left the Kendrick house.

***

He knocked at the door of the Prefect's mansion, standing silently in the cold and dark of the doorstep.

Eventually, the door opened and a Line stood there, looking at him, blinking at him from behind a set of glasses perched over her eye.

"Yes?" she said in a cool, curt tone.

"I apologize for the late hour but I have a message for your Master."

Her eye narrowed at the word: 'Master'. "Hm. You do? Name?"

"William Sifras."

"Very well. Come in and wait in the sitting room. I will see if he will see you."

She let him in and showed him to the Prefect's sitting room.

"Have a seat."

The woman hurried out and closed the door behind her.

He considered her a moment. Odd that she seemed almost insulted when he referred to the Prefect as her master but he'd assumed she was a servant of some sort. He felt a bit bad about it now.

After about fifteen minutes, the Line came back in.

"Mister Sifras--"

"Miss, I-I'm sorry if I offended you."

She blinked at him and her stiff posture relaxed a little. "No, please. I'm the Secretary to His Grace. And I get it all the time, sir."

"You?"

"Yes, I know, Lines rarely are given such a position. So I apologize for being curt with you. He will be down directly. He explained to me who you are and I wanted to tell you that I'm very sorry for what's happened to your family. I like your mother, she makes wonderful lemon cake." She offered a weak smile. "My name is Rose Evergreen."

"William Sifras, uh... I guess I already said that, huh?"

She inclined her top a little. "Yes, you did. I also really enjoyed your concerts. I hope you are able to continue them again when things are... _better_."

He flushed a bit. "I've been making recordings while I've been back here, it's just that concerts seem kind of, well, _frivolous_ right now, I guess. H-how do you know my mother?"

"Village craft fairs. She's always had a table at them."

"Oh, I-I didn't realize important people would be at all interested in my Mom's little craft fairs."

"I'm not important, I just work for an important man. I love going to them. Actually we all do." She sighed. "I miss them. I'm not a crafter but they were always so fun and charming. We haven't had one since the summer."

"Oh good, you're keeping him company. Thank you for not leaving him all alone in this big house, Rose."

The Circle made his way into the sitting room. He offered Bill a polite nod of his top circumference and turned to Rose. "If you would, my dear--?"

Rose nodded. "Good evening, Mister Sifras."

She left the room and closed the door behind her.

Tveir turned to Bill. "Rose said you came with a message for me."

Bill set his hat aside and stood up, producing the folded paper from his jacket. He handed it to the Circle.

"I see," he said, taking the paper and opening it. Sitting down, he took his time reading it. After a few minutes, he refolded the paper and set it aside.

"Cipher sent you?"

"Yes, sir."

"So you know him personally."

"I do, sir."

"Are you active in the rebellion, William?"

Bill took a deep breath. "I am, Your Grace."

"Oh, so it's 'Your Grace' now, is it?"

Bill tensed. "Well, I, uh--"

"Would you be able to arrange an in-person meeting with Cipher?"

"It depends."

"On if I am being honest with you. I could have you arrested right now."

"I know that, Your Grace."

"It seems to me that a man who runs the resistance might feel that the only way to find out if I am being honest and not risk any of his own people, would choose to come to see me personally. That way if I were not being honest about my intentions, the only person who would suffer would be him."

"That makes sense," Bill said quietly.

"I have been completely honest with you about everything. I respect the loyalty you have for your people, Cipher."

Bill blinked but made no other indication that Tveir was right.

"You're safe here, young man. Your people are safe. I will do everything I can to protect them. I'd be honored to help you."

He stood and extended a hand to Bill.

Bill stood as well and clasped the Circle's hand.

"Thank you, sir," he said quietly. 

"William, you and your friends have begun a great campaign. A frightening one but a great one. Our people need to change and I agree that the time for that change has been long overdue. I'm not the only Circle who feels this way. There has been a growing movement amongst the Polygons to try to effect change as well. People, _all_ people should be free to make their own choices, to succeed or fail on their own terms."

He shook Bill's hand.

"I, and my fellow Polygons who are of like mind, are with you. We will continue our efforts within our own communities and with your help, will try to connect with your people. Together, William, we _will_ change the world. Free for _all_ people, William, Polygons and non-Polygons alike."

He patted Bill's angle.

"It's time to liberate Flatland, William Sifras. Bill. Cipher."


	13. One Likes To Know Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chief Circle makes his move and the Prefect offers Bill his wisdom.

_One Month Later, Early Spring, Kendrick House_

The first contact was a phone call to the Kendrick residence. Risa answered it, since Varien was at Tveir's mansion at the time.

Bill was in the study, looking over a set of communiques from the nearby provinces, Arca and Wyst, which had joined Cyran in support of a conflict that was at the moment, raging in the Naran Prefecture. He was looking at a list of losses that had been giving him a severe ache in the apex.

Tveir had been true to his word and was offering any help he could, mostly in the areas of supplies and manpower, once he'd cleared out his guard and the Circle Militia that had been assigned to Cyran of Cerchio's loyalists. Unfortunately some of that 'clearing out' had involved executions but it was nothing compared to what Cerchio had begun to do to the Outer Prefectures.

Trials of accused Subversives, public floggings of 'criminals' and the weekly executions of the convicted were becoming a regular and unwelcome addition to the traditional daily Circle broadcasts. These broadcasts were now mandatory viewing and all connected televisions and radios switched on at the exact same time every day for Cerchio's address to the country and then the 'event of the day'.

"No, no... I will fetch him."

Bill looked up as he heard the catch and trembling in Risa's voice. He stood and made his way to the living room.

"Risa? What's wrong? Who is it?"

The Line looked at him, her eye huge and her figure visibly shaking.

"Bill... i-it's the Chief Circle."

Bill crossed the space in two strides and snatched the phone from the woman's shaking hand.

"Cerchio?" he snapped.

"Ah, just the very voice I wanted to hear," the Chief sneered across the line. "How are you doing, my boy? Enjoying your little _vacation_ back home?"

"You know as well as I do that this is no vacation."

Cerchio laughed coldly.

"Just so you're aware, my boy, this line is being recorded. So if I were you, I'd choose my words _carefully_."

"What do you want, Cerchio?"

"A man who cuts right to the chase, I like that..." His chuckle was unpleasant. "That's not _all_ I like about you."

"What do you _want_?"

"I'm calling you in regard to your parents. Such _sweet_ people. Gentle, kind, terribly frightened for you, you know."

"What do you mean?" Bill closed his eye, grinding his teeth. Risa patted his angle, standing close by, hugging him.

"They're convinced you've gotten yourself involved with some very unsavory people and they're concerned for you, Bill. I'm keeping them here with me, _safe_ but I don't know how much longer that will continue."

"You arrested them!"

"For their own protection, my boy. You must understand, I'm only looking out for you. I can't have my favorite companion's reputation sullied by any kind of affiliation with... _undesirables_."

"Speak clearly, Vyraius. I'm a stupid, simple Triangle, remember?" he bit out.

"I have it on good authority that you, my sweet little musician, have been involved with some, shall we say, _dissidents_. Namely your _ex-fiancé_ , Alistair Kendrick."

"Alistair? What do you mean, Alistair?"

"He has been proven to be a part of this distasteful rebellion business, young man. So, I made a point of taking him out of the picture. You won't have to worry about him any longer. However, his _family_ \--well, there's only his father left, now isn't there?"

"He's not involved with _anything_ and you know it, Vyraius!"

"Oh, I do. I do. He's quite innocent. As are your sweet, doting parents. As are you, as far as I can tell. Your association with Alistair can be quite easily forgotten about and your parents returned to their idyllic little village. All _you_ have to do, my pet, is _join_ me and all of this can be over in a flash."

"You don't have Alistair."

"Oh, you know this for a fact, do you?"

Bill's heart sank. No, he didn't. All he knew was what 'Alistair' had said to him in his own delusional sleep-deprived state, shortly before his parents were taken.

"You _can't_ have him. If you had him, you'd have contacted me much sooner than this."

"I've had your parents for a month now. Can you really _prove_ that I don't, William? Do you have access to information that says otherwise?"

That was a broad lure if Bill had ever heard it. No, Cerchio _didn't_ know he was Cipher, that much he was certain. What he wasn't certain of was if Vyraius suspected Bill had any kind of connection to the resistance.

"If you do have Alistair and I'm not saying I believe you, is he still alive?"

"Yes."

"Prove it."

"No."

"Then how can I be sure what you're saying is true? How can I believe anything you tell me?"

Cerchio chuckled. "Come to me, William. Let's end this silly dance, I'm tiring of the chase, it's not as much fun as it used to be. If you come to me, I'll release your parents and _perhaps_ even Alistair. I'll not bother them or the Kendricks any further and you and I can just be... _happy_."

"Until you tire of me," Bill grated. "I'm not interested. All I want are my parents home and safe and Alistair returned to me. You..." He closed his eye a moment and swallowed hard. "Listen, Vyraius. You can still be the hero here. You can be magnanimous. Show the country you can accept rejection with dignity." 

"The country is not concerned with our little spat, William. The country has much greater concerns at the moment."

"I know it does, sir," Bill said, "and it's scared. We're all scared. It-it needs to stop."

"That sounds like your little boyfriend talking, more than the Bill I know," Vyraius said.

"Sir, you seem to enjoy baiting me," Bill said evenly. "And you don't. Know me, I mean. Maybe it does sound like Alistair but what he has to say is important. I know you think that you can make me do what you want with thinly veiled threats and I don't know, maybe you're right. I'm scared. Alright? I'll admit that. But what you need to know is that I'm not the _only_ one who is. All of this, the fighting with the resistance just because you don't want to hear what they want to say, _that's_ terrifying people. It-it needs to stop. You need to stop. Maybe you can be magnanimous here too. Just... stop. Stop all of this. _Listen_ to the people who are asking to be heard. I see everything that's going on and it doesn't make me want to be part of your world any more than I ever did. It doesn't take some bigger-than-life hero to ask for such a thing. I'm just a Triangle. Just a simple, frightened Triangle that's asking for a voice. The country is suffering, anyone can see it. Your people don't want to live like this. Everyone's scared."

He sighed.

" _Please_ , sir. Just, _listen._ Stop this before it goes any further."

"You _know_ how much I love to hear you say 'please', Bill."

"Sir, this isn't funny anymore. Please stop."

"If you came to me, I might be convinced to listen, as you say."

Bill glanced at Risa. She just continued to hug him, crying softly.

"Sir, I already refused to be your consort. Why do you _still_ want me?"

"Why, because I can't have you! Nobody refuses me, William Sifras! You may not realize it, but you're a valuable commodity in the Capitol. Simply _everyone_ is talking about your little magic disappearing act and that's made you even _more_ desirable to the rest of Society. The fact that I'm actively pursuing you and your cute little teasing of me has only made you the darling of the City!"

_Cute? Teasing?_ Bill swallowed down a hot retort and closed his eye. Cerchio's propaganda machine was earning their pay. _Of course_ the Chief would spin the truth into some kind of lurid tale where he came out looking like the sweet, long-suffering hero and Bill like a coquettish, spoiled brat.

"No," Bill said, feeling the bars slamming down around his family. Around Alistair. "No, I won't. Release my parents, Cerchio. Release Alistair. This game is over."

"It's not over until _I_ say it is, Sifras!" Vyraius hissed. "You _will_ come to me. We _will_ make a show of our relationship. You'll do what _I_ want from now on. Your parents and that insufferable Rhomboid you're so fond of go home, _relatively_ unscathed. I'll give you some more time to _think_ about it. However, even _my_ patience isn't infinite."

The phone line went dead.

"Bill!" Risa whispered, shakily. "He has Alistair!"

Bill closed his eye and hugged Risa tightly. "Shh, it's okay. We don't know that for sure, Risa. I'm going to make some calls. I'll find out what's really going on. Don't worry. Cerchio lies. He's made a career of it."

"But your parents!"

"He won't hurt them, at least not while he thinks I'm considering his threats. He can't risk it, if he thinks I'll give in eventually."

"Do you think he knows about... Cipher?"

"I don't think so," Bill said slowly. "If he did, he wouldn't be calling me and my folks would probably be dead." He sighed. "That can only mean that Creon Hugh didn't reveal that information."

He took a deep breath.

"First, I need to talk to the Prefect."

***

_Cyclonus Mansion, later that day_

"I haven't seen anything saying that Vyraius has Alistair," Tveir said. "I'm still checking on it but I must tell you, it's entirely possible that he does indeed have him. It would be on the lists that my people can't get access to." He paused and looked away from Bill's eye. "The Subversive lists. If that's the case, I shudder to think what is happening to him. If he's even still alive. I'm sorry Bill."

Bill shook his angle. "I understand. I know, I've already spent far too much time dwelling on that possibility. I, uh, even thought I heard him speaking to me in my dreams."

The Circle's expression turned sad and compassionate. "Oh Bill, I'm sorry, son." He put a hand on Bill's angle. "I know, I understand."

"At least we know my parents are alright, for now."

"Yes, he won't harm them unless you acquiesce and I'd recommend you try and hold out as long as you can."

"What about Alistair?" Bill murmured, "there's got to be a way to find out if he's really been captured. I thought for _sure_ he hadn't been. The mission team never saw him get taken."

"What did they say, Bill?"

"Only that in the ambush, Alistair got separated from them during the confusion and the last they saw, he was trying to fight off some of the Militia who'd cornered him. One moment he was there and the next, he wasn't. No one knew where he'd gone. The Militia didn't capture anyone and he wasn't amongst the dead, so they didn't know what had happened."

"He may have slipped and fallen, or managed to escape the Militia and couldn't get back to the others. Alistair seems like a smart kid, not the type to cut and run, or the kind to surrender to the soldiers."

"No, he'd never give up, or abandon his team."

"Then he must have been hurt or had to run to escape capture." The Circle leaned out of the sitting room door, "Please bring William some hot tea."

"Yes, sir."

Tveir turned back to Bill. "We will find out for certain." His eye frowned resolutely. "I know a man. I'd hesitated until now to involve him, because I don't know his loyalties. He owes me a favor. If I can convince him to look into the lists of the captured, of the _secret_ prisoners, he may be able to provide me with more than just the location of our Mister Kendrick. It's a risk, but I'm willing to take it for you, son."

The butler brought a tea cart in, with cups, a pot of hot water and tea. He prepared a cup for Tveir and one for Bill, which he handed to him. Once he was finished, he left the room as quietly as he'd entered.

"I appreciate it, sir," Bill said, taking a drink. "I know I shouldn't obsess over one man, over one family but he--I--" He swallowed hard.

"Every loss is painful," Tveir said quietly. "Over the past weeks, I have seen more of my own friends fall, either to a crippling fear of change or to the Circle Militia itself. We're seeing lines drawn in every level of society. The fear of being labeled a dissenter is looming over all of us."

"I tried--" Bill said hesitantly, "I-I tried to talk to him, to Vyraius, on the phone. I tried to ask him to stop this-this _war._ He could, you know. If he'd just stop and listen--"

Tveir sighed. "I could have told you that he wouldn't, Bill. You're young and idealistic, he knows that. If he doesn't know who you really are and I doubt that he does, from what he's done and more notably, what he _hasn't_ done, your asking him to stop the war only shows him that you're affected by his behavior, that you're _thinking_ about him. It's only going to increase his interest in you. Unfortunately, he might _learn_ more about you than you want him to. He knows you're at least sympathetic to the cause. 

"You're lucky in that most young people are already known to be idealistic and somewhat anti-establishment. The most vocal supporters of the resistance in the Capitol are young, wealthy, _stupid_ Shapes who really have no idea what's _really_ going on in the provinces. They _think_ they're being oppressed because their daddies won't give them the latest toy that everyone else has, or allow them to drink themselves into a stupor. They're using the rebellion as an _excuse_ to be deviant and reckless and pursue their own wants and needs just because they think they might get a little more coin in their purses for their own selfish pursuits.

"Vyraius thinks you're just like they are. Silly, stupid, frivolous and self-involved, just like he is, if I'm being honest. My advice to you would be, don't talk to him any more than you must to keep your parents safe."

"You're right of course," Bill said. "I-I get too emotional sometimes and I just thought that perhaps, while he was listening to me, _perhaps_ he might think about what I-I _said_."

"It was a noble thought, William." Tveir said, sipping his tea. "I'm not you, I'm not Cipher. I realize you're much smarter than Vyraius gives you credit for. You're one of the best leaders the cause has and I bow to your knowledge every time, when it comes to that. So, I hope that you will take my advice the way it's meant. You know the resistance, yes. But I know the Capitol, I know Vyraius and I know the Polygonal society he loves to impress. I will be honest with you, I worry about your emotional state when it comes to dealing with him. You were able to fool him today but there might not be a next time."

Bill looked down, into his tea.

"I know," he said. "I won't let there be a next time."

"Perhaps," the Circle said thoughtfully, "I might be able to _help_ you. I can teach you _how_ to deal with him. Give you an advantage for the next time he contacts you."

Bill nodded. "I think that's an excellent idea, sir."

***

_Cipher's Laboratory, The Ruins, a week later_

He sat quietly, at his desk in the alchemy lab, while Theus spoke with the cell leader at Arca Prefecture. There'd been fighting with the Circle Militia for days now and reports were coming in that Naran had been taken completely and several villages rounded up and summarily executed, on the Chief's order. There hadn't even been time to broadcast the massacre live, though agents reported Vyraius had cameras in the prefecture the entire time. There weren't even the pretence of arrests for Subversive activity this time. Naran was being used as an _example_. Bill knew the news of the razing of the province was already widespread and the video would be televised soon.

Arca likely would be next.

If Vyraius couldn't squash the rebellion by targeting the rebels themselves, he would take the problem prefectures out, one by one. Anywhere with even _suspected_ Subversive activity was now on his hit list.

Which included Cyran.

As hard as the Prefect was trying to divert the Capitol's attention from Cyran, it was inevitable that eventually, they'd be under scrutiny, yet again. The fact that Vyraius knew that Alistair had been involved with a known group of Subversives hadn't helped. The fact that Bill resolutely refused to leave his home, only made Vyraius look harder at it.

The entire resistance had been underground since Bill had assumed command, which made it harder for Vyraius to find anything wrong with the province, but Bill knew that wouldn't stop him. He might just decide to make the Prefecture another _example_ , just like Naran. 

He couldn't let that happen.

People were dying and he couldn't stop it.

Alistair was probably wasting away in some awful dungeon and he couldn't help him.

His parents were the prisoners of a deranged, corrupt dictator and he couldn't free them short of agreeing to be that man's plaything.

Cyclonus risked his life and reputation to help Bill change the world and he would be the first on the chopping block if their rebellion was discovered. There was nothing he could do to help him either.

He'd never felt so useless, so helpless or so _furious_ in his entire life.

He hated being backed into a corner. He hated being _threatened_ and he hated feeling like he had no other choice.

He had to _stop_ this. 

Standing, he left the lab, made his way to the surface of the ruins and into the ancient garden.

Spring was coming, even though ice and snow still encrusted the birches and pines and the ground was frozen, the air was touched with the scent of thawing plants and was just slightly warm.

He stood in the garden, breathing deeply, letting the air clear his mind.

Cyclonus, Daniel, Theus, Nancy, Varien and Risa, his parents, the freedom fighters who relied on him to help them; _Alistair_. All of them were his responsibility. He couldn't continue to expose them to the heightening danger of Vyraius Cerchio and his insanity.

There was only one recourse left to him.

Vyraius Cerchio had to die.


	14. Hammer Into Anvil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cerchio makes another threat, Bill remains resolute.

_Spring, Cyran Province_

The second contact came about three weeks later. By this time, Bill and Tveir had set up an emergency system to alert the Prefect the moment a call from the City came in. With Theus' and Bill's help they'd arranged a secret tap on the Kendrick line that even Cerchio's men couldn't detect.

When the call came in, Bill was at the house. Discussions with the Prefect and information provided by Tveir's contacts within the Capitol confirmed what Bill suspected: the house was being watched and all comings and goings were logged. So Vyraius knew when Bill was at home.

Tveir's contacts had come through in more than one way as well.

The information he'd managed to obtain from the gentleman he'd mentioned was reliable. Not only did the gentleman in question provide Tveir with the information he'd sought, he'd agreed without hesitation to join the cause of the resistance. He'd been sympathetic already, so Tveir's request only cemented his loyalty. They now had a list of the Subversive prisoners being held in the secret prison under the Chief's Palace.

And yes, Alistair was top of that list. Creon Hugh was second.

The gentleman also provided Tveir with another important bit of information: Cerchio was _convinced_ that Alistair was Cipher, leader of the Subversive rebellion. It was one of the reasons the Chief was keeping the Rhomboid alive. But just.

Alistair wasn't well. According to their contact, he'd been found unconscious in the mountains and had been brought in, barely awake and near death. He'd been treated but only enough to keep him alive.

Bill suspected such a thing but to find out it was in fact, true only made him that much more anxious to get Alistair and his parents out of the Chief Circle's clutches and home where they were safe and could be cared for, as soon as possible.

So when the call came in, Bill steeled himself for whatever would come next and shoved down his emotions as hard as he could. He had to focus, remember what Tveir had taught him and turn the conversation to _his_ advantage. Worrying about Alistair's health and the welfare of his parents couldn't be allowed to affect him, not if he wanted to keep them alive. He couldn't let Cerchio manipulate him this time.

"Bill Sifras here," he said in a steely tone.

"Ah, my little musician! Been practicing? When you get here I'll want a lovely concert! I've already made plans, I've even picked out your outfit! Simply _everyone_ is going to be there! Everyone is so excited!"

"What do you want this time?" Bill spat.

"Oh, now, don't be like that my boy. I know you're just as anxious to come _home_ as I am to see you! You can't stay in that little rural backwater much longer. _Can you?_ "

_It had to be recorded._ Bill thought. _He wouldn't be talking like this if he were planning to leak at least some of this conversation to the press._

"It's my home. I'd rather stay with the people I love and who love me."

"But _I_ love you too, don't you want to make me happy?"

"No," Bill said.

"Your parents miss you."

"I'm sure they do. Send them home to me and everyone will be much happier."

"I won't."

"That's your problem, not mine."

Silence.

"What about Alistair?"

"What about him?"

"Don't you want him home as well?"

"I do, but I don't expect you to give him back to me just because I ask."

"Of course not," Vyraius said in a colder tone. "You want him, you know what you have to do."

"Give me my parents, Cerchio. You're holding them for no reason and you know it."

"I _make_ the reasons. My patience is growing thin."

"I'm sure it is. Mine has been long gone. You're going to listen to what _I_ have to say for once. You're going to return my parents to me, return my fiancé and they're going to be well, untouched. You're going to leave me alone and this 'relationship' is going to be over. Do you understand me?"

He made a noise that was most likely a snort of surprise and indignation.

"You're telling _me_ what to do, Sifras?"

"Yes, I'm tired of this. Tired of you. Threats don't work on me, Cerchio."

"Oh, no emotional pleas for me to listen to the rabble? No crying about how _frightened_ you are? I'm disappointed in you, boy."

"Shut up, Cerchio," Bill snapped. "Return my family to me. I'm not going with you."

Cerchio sighed. It sounded melodramatic and contrived.

"You're being impossible, boy. I suppose I have no other choice."

"You don't. Return my family."

"No."

"I figured that was what you would say."

"Did you now? Perhaps you can figure out what I'm going to say next. You won't come willingly. Fine. You _will_ come. I do wonder what your parents will think when I tell them you refused to agree to my terms?"

"Don't touch them."

"I won't. I'm not a monster. I wouldn't kill a couple of elderly people just because their son is being difficult."

He paused a long moment.

" _Alistair_ , however... well, I _am_ sorry, William. But you just signed your boyfriend's death warrant."

Bill went ice cold.

"You're bluffing," he bit out. "You wouldn't kill Alistair because I refused to join you."

"Heh," Cerchio purred, "I never had a choice. He's under arrest for leading the rebellion and I couldn't release him if I wanted to. Which I don't."

Bill swallowed hard, fighting the urge to scream.

"You just gave me the final nail in his coffin. You see, I was only keeping him from the masses because I knew you liked him. But if you don't want to come willingly, well, I guess I have no other choice than to turn him over to the Tribunal and have them deal with him as they see fit."

Bill was silent, he couldn't speak. No words came to him.

"They will convict and execute. No loss to me but to _you_..." A low, evil chuckle filtered over the phone line. "You poor, poor boy. I'll be here to comfort you in your time of need. You have no choice. You're already _mine_. You'll come to appreciate me in time."

"You _are_ a monster," Bill hissed.

"No, I'm simply the King. Best you remember that in the days to come, William. Your boyfriend is lost. Your parents, however are _still_ mine."

"You said you wouldn't kill them!"

"Ah, there's the _fire_ I remember! No. But people don't need to _die_ to suffer."

"Cerchio!"

"We will see each other soon. Keep that fire on low, Billy. I look forward to seeing it in its full fury for myself, _in my bed_."

"You basta--"

The line went dead.

***

Bill was sobbing.

"You did as well as you could, son," Cyclonus said, standing beside him as Varien sat next to him in the Kendricks' sitting room, patting him gently on his angle.

"I screwed up, I let my emotions get to me, I-I..."

"He must have had this planned from the beginning," Cyclonus said, "he knew you'd refuse. He was just using this as an excuse. He wanted to hurt you and he did. He'd already planned to set Alistair up in a trial and this was just his way of telling you about it in the way that would hurt you the most. Your parents though... I-I'm sorry, Bill."

"Alistair won't let this happen to him," Varien said softly, "he won't let them execute him."

"He's taking the heat for _me_ ," Bill breathed, trying to catch his breath. "They think he's Cipher. And knowing him, he'll keep _letting_ them think it."

"Trust Alistair," Varien said, "he's there, he'll help your parents, I just know he will."

"Varien," Risa said, putting a hand on the older Square's angle. "I-I'm sure he will. Maybe you should come have some tea, let the Prefect talk to Bill?"

The Square looked at her, nodded a little and got up, letting her escort him to the kitchen.

"He's still not doing well," Tveir said quietly. "This hasn't helped." He took a deep breath. "Bill, I'm concerned. Cerchio is going to _force_ you to go with him and that most likely means he's going to send an _armed_ escort to retrieve you."

Bill sighed. "Yeah, I figured."

"We may have to stop them."

"No. I want to keep Cyran as free from suspicion as possible. We can't have any kind of evidence of the resistance around where they can see it. I refuse to let Cyran fall like the others, even if I have to suffer personally to keep it that way!"

"You're going to let them take you?"

"I don't see any other way, Tveir. He's not going to let me get away this time." He stood up and began to pace. "Sir, we have people in the Capitol, reliable people. I'll just have to keep working from inside the City. I've already made contingency plans, set things in motion. I had to. If I'm going to be Cerchio's prisoner, I'll have to make it count for something."

"William, I really don't like this idea. _You're_ Cipher, we can't risk you like that."

Bill looked at the Prefect, the kindness in the man's eye, the concerned and protective stance of his entire figure.

"You can, sir. When it comes down to it, I'm just a small blip on the greater face of the rebellion. There are others much more qualified, much more important to the rebellion than I am. I can be replaced. And I can't think of anyone better qualified than," He paused and looked at Tveir. " _You_ , sir. You know everything there is to know about the resistance now, you're incredibly clever and you're _much_ wiser than I could ever be. I _trust_ you, sir. What's more, the _others_ trust you now. I think you'd actually be a _much_ better leader than me."

Tveir stared at him, in stunned shock.

"William--! I-I could _never_ \--"

"Yes, sir, you could. You're being far too modest."

"William, I--"

"He's right, Tveir," Varien said quietly from the sitting room door. "I can't think of anyone better, either."

Tveir stared at the two of them. "I... I'm incredibly honored, William," he said finally, with a deep sigh. "I don't want it to become necessary but if what we're fearing comes to pass... thank you, William. I'll do the best I can."

Bill breathed a sigh of relief. It helped immensely, knowing that Cyran would be safe, especially considering what he had to do.

"Thank you, Tveir."

***

Bill stood in the garden, quietly, enjoying the fresh, clean spring air and the silence. He'd spent as much of his free time (which wasn't much, these days) in the ancient ruins as he could, trying to memorize the forest, the plants and the _feeling_ of being here in Cyran. Of being _alive_. He was never happy, not anymore. He felt alone and small, a tiny Triangle, trying to be a hero.

_Alistair?_

It was a long shot but he _needed_ Alistair. Just to hear his voice, even if it _was_ all his imagination.

He didn't have much hope that any of this deplorable situation would come out well at all. Right now, he'd be content with his parents safely home and Alistair alive. He wasn't hopeful, at least not where Alistair was concerned. Cerchio wouldn't let Alistair go, that was too much to even dream of and if he were telling the truth, Alistair was already as good as dead. _That_ much, Bill believed.

But the idea of getting his parents home? He _had_ to believe that Cerchio would release them. Unfortunately that was also extremely hard for him to accept. Cerchio wasn't the type of man to simply _let_ them go, especially if he had to take Bill by force.

He took a deep breath, sitting in the grass near one of the birch trees. Burying his eye in his hands, he just sat there, quietly, trying to clear his mind, trying to at least _reach_ out to Alistair with his heart, his emotions, trying to let him know that he loved him, he missed him, he wished with everything he had, that they could be together.

_Even to die. Together. Alistair... please hold on until I can be with you._

_Bill. You're so brave._

He didn't even want to think right now. He _heard_ Alistair and it didn't matter if it was his imagination or not, he clung to the sound of Alistair's mental whisper.

_You're the brave one. I could never do what you have. I'll do everything I can for us to be together... even if it's our last hours,_ he thought.

_Don't cry. I love you. I wish I'd been able to be with you personally. Just, keep trying. There's so much I want to tell you but I can't right now. We_ will _see each other again. Don't worry about me. I'm surviving and I have no intention of leaving you ever again. And yes, it really_ is _me. It's not your imagination. Don't let doubt enter that brilliant angle of yours. Focus on those who_ really _need you right now. Your parents. Your friends. If you're planning what I think you are, I know there's no way of talking you out of it, so I will trust that this really is the best track for us to take._

_I'm doing what I can to ensure your parents are alright. They're not in the prison and there are people of yours who are keeping an eye on them. You've made such incredible progress with the resistance, I'm so very proud of you, my love._

"They think you're Cipher," Bill whispered.

_Yes, and they will_ continue _to think that. I've made sure they think I'm the King in this interdimensional chess game and I will keep playing the role until the day I die, if needs be._

"It's so scary," Bill breathed. "I-I never thought it would terrify me the way it does."

_Change is terrifying, Bill. But not all change is bad. You're strong._ Own _your fear. Make it work for you. Use your fear to drive your determination. Your strength is your tenacity, your conviction. Your anger._ Use _your anger. Use your_ love _. With it, you'll be_ unstoppable _._

"Alistair... I wish you were here... I miss you so very much. Your father--"

_I know... I'm sorry. He-he will be alright... I-I..._ a deep sadness and despair flowed through their connection and Bill was certain, the young man was sobbing. He didn't want to even try and understand how he knew it but he could _feel_ it.

"Alistair, it's okay, he has Risa and Tveir..."

_Oh I know. I-I know, I... just... so many people I've... I_ tried _Bill, I-I really_ tried _..._

It didn't make much sense to Bill but he just sent love to him, it was all he could do.

"Shh... we'll be together soon, if I have to burn the Capitol to the ground to do it!" he said, maybe louder than he really ought to have but the rage that surged inside him at the sensation of Alistair's desperation was overpowering. 

He _had_ to do something. He couldn't let Alistair continue to suffer and he couldn't sit by and _wait_ for Cerchio to make his next move.

_Bill! No, no, don't--!_

"I'm taking this to him," he growled under his breath. "I'm done waiting. The man has to answer for his crimes and it's time somebody made him pay!"

_Bill... don't do this. Let_ him _make the move, not you! L-listen to me, please! Your original plan is the better one. If you do this now, he'll have an advantage and you might not be able to ensure your parents are returned safely._

"He won't do it, Alistair, you know it was well as I do!" Bill hissed, fighting to keep his voice as low as possible, just in case there _was_ someone listening, even in as secret a place as the Ruins. "He'll keep them as insurance against my continued compliance or he'll just kill them as soon as he's got me."

He dropped his eye into his hands.

_I-I don't know_ what _to do anymore..._

_Shh... Bill... we'll figure it out. Just..._ think _, use that incredible intelligence of yours, use your fury to_ fuel _your cleverness, not the other way around. Be angry, yes, but be smart about how you_ use _that anger._

Bill sighed, lying down in the grass and curling up, imagining Alistair curled up with him.

_That's it, sleep for a bit,_ Alistair sent softly. _I'll stay with you as long as I can..._

Bill's eye closed and he clung to Alistair's warm, loving presence.

_We'll be together, for_ good _. Soon._


	15. The Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill is summoned to Pantocyclus.

_Cyran Prefecture, Kendrick Estate_

Bill was ready, the day they came to arrest him.

He was reading (or trying to) in the study at the Kendrick house.

He heard the Circle Militia's vehicles pull up into the driveway but he didn't move. He'd told Risa and Varien to stay in their rooms and let whatever was going to happen, happen with no interference.

Tveir's men were ranged throughout the grounds of the house and the Circle himself was standing by on his monitor from his own home, since Bill insisted that he stay where he was safe. He didn't want the Chief's men to see anything that they might report back as _unusual_ in the behavior of the Cyran Prefecture's people or their Prefect. It was a must, he'd insisted, to keep everyone safe and away from suspicion.

So when they came for him, Cyran was quiet, _normal_.

The banging on the door was a little excessive.

"SIFRAS!"

With a sigh, Bill set the book down, drank the remainder of the coffee in his cup and got up to answer the door.

"I'm William Sifras," he said quietly, to the group of gigantic Shapes who stood on the doorstep. "You're here for me."

"Under the order of His Majesty, Chief Circle Vyraius Cerchio, you are required to accompany us to Pantocyclus City, under his protection--"

"Arrest, you mean," Bill said in a low, even tone.

"Not unless you resist the summons, Mister Sifras."

"I will not leave this house willingly. Make sure you note that in your report. I'm being coerced with threats to my family."

"Are you going to make us take you?"

"You look like a reasonable man, sir. As such, you must realize, I cannot go quietly." He paused. "What would you do if you were in the same situation as I am? The Chief has kidnapped my parents and threatened them with violence if I do not acquiesce to his wishes."

The Pentagon who was the commander of the Militia paused. His eye frowned.

"I suppose I would do the same as you, young man," he said in a much less forceful tone. "While I sympathize with your situation, I have orders I must carry out."

"I understand that," Bill said simply. "But you will have to arrest me. I will not go with you, otherwise."

The commander inclined his top angle in a nod. "This will go better if you don't try to fight with us."

"I don't intend to," Bill said. "I just want to make sure it's clear that I don't _want_ to go with you and your taking me is under duress."

"It's noted and witnessed by these men here," the Pentagon said. His Militia men, all Isosceles, nodded as well. "None of us want to fight with a small Triangle, especially one who has been nothing but polite and straightforward."

Bill sighed and nodded. "May I take a small bag?"

The Pentagon looked at his lieutenant. "Is there anything about his bringing personal possessions?"

The Isosceles looked over the file he was carrying and shook his apex. "No sir, nothing saying he can't. I think one small bag is alright."

"Then, yes. As long as there are no weapons in it. We will have to search the bag."

"That's fine," Bill said. He stepped aside and allowed the Militia into the entrance hall. "It's here in the study."

The Pentagon accompanied him into the study, where the rucksack he'd already packed sat waiting. He picked it up and handed it to the commander.

"This is the small bag?"

"Yes."

"I'd expected a suitcase but very well, if this is all you wish to bring."

Setting the bag on a side table, the Pentagon opened it and searched through it. 

The Isosceles lieutenant made a note of the the items inside.

"Books, a notebook, pens. A winter coat. A velvet... top hat? Some personal sundries and a few small articles of clothing. Two photographs... oh. This is your parents? And your family." The Pentagon sighed, closing the bag. "I-I apologize, young man."

Bill shrugged slightly.

"It's your job. I can't hold it against you."

"Well, then. I hate to do it but I'll have to handcuff you, if you insist on being arrested."

"It's the only way I will leave this place."

"Very well. William Sifras, under the authority of Chief Circle, Vyraius Cerchio, I place you under arrest for refusing to comply with his order requiring you to accompany us to Pantocyclus City."

He turned to the Isosceles Militia.

"Handcuff him please."

Bill was cuffed and his bag returned to him.

"Bill!"

Bill's angles wilted a little at the sound of that voice.

"Risa, don't--"

"Bill!" Risa ran down the stairs and over to him. Varien followed her, slowly.

"We can't let you go!" Risa said, trying to get close enough to hug him. "Please don't take him away!"

The Pentagon commander looked at Bill, who gave a weak shrug.

"I'm sorry Miss but we have our orders. We won't hurt him. He's been very polite about the whole thing and Circles knows, he sure didn't have to be."

He stepped aside though, and let Risa hug Bill.

"Bill?" Varien said quietly. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I don't have a choice, sir," Bill said. "Please, just let me go."

"Please, Bill..." Risa began but Varien took her aside and wrapped an arm around her figure.

"Risa, shh... It's alright. Bill will be fine. These men have said they won't hurt him and I--I'd _like_ to believe them."

The Pentagon frowned slightly but he nodded. "He will not come to harm while we have him in our custody, sir. You have my word as an officer of the Circle Militia."

Varien regarded the man coolly. "I'll hold you to that, officer. I'm Varien Kendrick and this young man is under my care. I regard him as part of my family and I will know if he's mistreated any more than he already has been by the Chief."

"We are aware of that, Mister Kendrick," the Pentagon said. "I am sorry that this situation has occurred and I'd like to say that if I had my choice, I'd let this young Triangle stay here. But unfortunately, I don't have that power. Please, say your goodbyes and then we really must go."

Varien stepped in to embrace Bill.

"Be _wise_ ," he whispered in his angle. "Be clever. I _believe_ in you, son. _Use your power_."

Bill blinked. It was an odd thing to say but given Varien's recent illness, it wasn't unexpected. He nodded his apex however. "Be safe, sir," he said.

"I will," Varien said quietly.

"Good bye Varien, Risa. Stay safe. Take care of each other, okay?" He swallowed hard.

"We will," Risa said. "Please do the same, Bill. Write if you can. We will miss you something _awful_."

One of the Isosceles made a sound suspiciously like a sniffle.

The Pentagon took a deep breath. "Come along, young man." He put a hand on Bill's back and walked him to the front door.

On the threshold he paused.

"I'm very sorry about this, sir," he said to Varien.

The group of them passed through the door and onto the front steps.

Bill glanced back at the house.

Varien and Risa stood in the doorway, watching them, eyes sad.

It was the last time Bill would see either of them, alive.

***

_Spring, Pantocyclus City, Chief Circle's Palace_

From the moment he arrived, Bill's life had been a weird kind of purgatory.

When it came down to it, he really didn't know what he was expecting but so far, nothing that had happened made any sense. 

At least, not to him.

He'd been hurried to the apartments he was expected to occupy with very little ceremony and left there, to explore the place on his own. Cerchio hadn't even shown up to greet him, which given his previous behavior was odd but definitely not unwelcome. He hadn't been uncuffed until he was in his new rooms and then locked in. Even though the suite was generous, even boasting a separate music room with its own grand piano for his use, it was still, clearly, a prison. The doors to the balcony were locked, the windows only opened partially. 

The television in the suite was closed-circuit and only broadcast select programming. It did come on every day at the same time, just as all televisions and radios did now, for Cerchio's speech and daily reminder of his power.

The day Bill arrived, it was another public punishment, this time of the citizens of one of Arca's villages. The Prefecture had fallen to Cerchio's Militia earlier that week and Bill had yet another group to strike off his list of allies. He turned his back on the television, not caring if there were cameras monitoring his rooms. 

He didn't want to see any more of Cerchio's demonstrations. He could _hear_ it, however.

Bill had expected, with intense anxiety, being summoned to Cerchio that evening. The summons never came and he finally fell into an exhausted, stressful sleep.

He'd expected to be summoned the next day. Nothing.

This went on for about two weeks, with Bill just drifting anxiously from room to room of his small new home, sometimes plunking away at the piano, sometimes sitting as close to the balcony as he could and gazing drearily out the window into the garden just beyond. 

He was well cared for. He was brought elaborate meals regularly and his needs were seen to; bed linens changed on a regular basis, the apartment cleaned occasionally, his laundry washed and sundries replaced as needed; but nothing else happened in his now dull, depressing, silent and lonely life. The Palace servants weren't allowed to speak to him, short of necessary communication and after a while, he lost interest in trying to coax them out. 

He'd taken advantage of the small wet bar in his apartment for several nights but that got old quick. It didn't serve his purposes to be either drunk or hung over when Cerchio eventually did call for him, though it would probably have made what he planned to do easier, in one way or another.

His plan, which he'd refined over the time he'd had to wait before he was arrested and even further refined over the time he'd been in what he'd begun to think of as 'solitary confinement', was simple. 

At the first reasonable opportunity, when he was able to be alone with Cerchio, he was going to assassinate him. 

Rather than waiting for something worse to happen, like Alistair's conviction, or suffering the indignity of Cerchio's unwelcome attentions just to keep his parents alive, Bill decided that the first time he had an opening, he was going to take it. If he could do it before Alistair's conviction and execution, he could stop _everything_.

By killing Cerchio, successfully, not only could Bill stop Alistair's death and save his parents, if he did everything right, he could stop the atrocities going on in the provinces. He had to make sure he didn't get caught. Being killed for the assassination of the Chief Circle would make the next stage of his plan a lot harder to achieve.

He intended on seizing the Chief's power for himself.

It was the only way he could think of to save his family and stop the war.

The trick would be getting the Circle Council to accept or at least, agree to, his interim leadership. He figured at the very least, he could get Tveir's allies on his side, the rest of it would have to be somewhat militant to begin with, just because nobody in their right mind was going to accept a Triangle as Chief, at least not at first. He'd need the support of the resistance to help him establish and maintain control, though he didn't plan on doing it with force unless absolutely necessary. Most smart people didn't want this fight any more than Bill or the resistance did. When it came down to it, people, particularly professional people, could be logical and intelligent and if approached with that kind of mindset. He hoped it would be easier to negotiate and win supporters rather than end up with another explosion of fighting. As long as they were assured that their jobs were intact, he figured the majority of the Circle Militia and indeed, most of the Palace employees would join his side.

Cerchio wasn't well liked in the Palace, Tveir explained. Most of his own people and the Council hated him and would have been quite pleased to see him gone. He definitely wouldn't be missed and as long as he was replaced with a better, smarter option, they might overlook the fact that Bill was a Triangle. Bill didn't intend to stay Chief for long, anyway. He was really hoping that he could convince _Tveir_ to take over, if he was being completely honest with himself.

_Bill_ certainly didn't want to be King of anything. Even running the resistance wasn't his idea of a fun time. When it came down to it, all Bill wanted was to go home to Cyran with Alistair and his folks, settle down, finally get married and have a nice, quiet life with his family and friends in their little village in the trees. Maybe then he'd finally be able to _actually_ become a physicist and mathematician, as he'd wanted since he was a child.

He wasn't even twenty-one and he _desperately_ wanted to retire. He couldn't think of anything he wanted more at this moment than the solitude and simple pleasures of village life.

His childhood dream of being a scientist seemed like a thing of stars, something he could barely see and never touch. Sure, he'd been a 'famous' pianist, (which to be frank was what got him into this deplorable current situation in the first place!) which had been fun in the beginning but had definitely gotten extremely stale. He'd been able to _use_ his scientific training quite often as the leader of the resistance and well, he used his considerable mathematics knowledge every day of his life, considering he kept most of his personal journals as well as his field journals and notes in a variety of ciphers, including the maths ciphers he knew nobody was going to be able to figure out-- _ever_. So if the copious amounts of documentation, journals and notes he'd kept as Cipher were ever discovered, he wished whomever was tasked with trying to decipher them good luck, because they'd _need_ it.

This evening, Bill had allowed himself one glass of wine while he sat by the window while the manservant collected his dinner dishes and cleaned up. He was a Triangle, like him and Bill had the distinct feeling that the guy _resented_ him with a passion. Well, sure, of course he did, since he was an Equilateral just like Bill but he was required to _serve_ him as though he were a Polygon.

"You know," Bill sighed, trying once again to stimulate a conversation, "I don't want to be here any more than you want to be serving me. I wish you'd at least try and talk to me for once."

"That's not the way I heard it," the man finally said in a tight voice. 

This was new. Bill tilted his apex and looked at the Triangle. "Oh? How did _you_ hear it?"

"They say you're the Chief's new... _companion_ and that you're just being _difficult_. We were told not to talk to you or give you any _more_ reason to complain. They _say_ he's about had it with you."

"Huh, is that so?" Bill said coolly. "You realize I've been here for almost two weeks, alone, with nobody to talk to, locked in this room and I haven't _seen_ the Chief since I got here?"

The Triangle paused and looked at him, confused. "Locked in this room? The door is always open when I come here."

Bill's eye frowned. "It is? Whenever I try it, it's locked." He considered the other Triangle. "I just assumed you were given a key or a passcard or something."

"No, we aren't given keys, of any kind, sir."

"Just call me Bill. It's my name," Bill said easily. "So you go in and out at your leisure."

_The door is automatic. He's got to have something on him, or on his tea-tray that triggers the lock._

"Yes sir. It opens for me and closes. I can show you, if you wish."

_And yet, he still calls me 'sir'._

"Yes, if you would."

The Triangle wheeled the cart out of the main room and into the small hallway that joined the music room. Bill asked him to pause before approaching the door and went to try the handle, showing him that it was, indeed, locked. The other man looked shocked and then, distinctly nervous.

"Now, leave the cart there and try it yourself, I want to see something."

He did as Bill asked. The door remained locked.

Now, the poor man looked even more uncomfortable.

_So it's the cart._

"Go ahead and take your cart. Thank you for talking with me. I've been alone for a while and I really missed another human voice."

"I'm sorry," the Triangle said. "I will talk to you some more tomorrow if they send me." He offered a contrite expression and pushed his cart up to the door, which then clicked softly and opened out into the hallway beyond. The servant went through and the door began to close behind him.

"I can use this," Bill muttered as he watched the door close rather quickly once the Triangle was through. "Somehow."

He stood there, examining the door for about ten minutes, then went back into his suite, found his rucksack and began to sort through it.

By now, he'd figured out where the cameras were in the suite, which was annoying and creepy. They weren't exactly well hidden. Well maybe they _were_ but not to someone with Bill's knowledge and background. Two were in his bedroom area, one in the music room and one in the bathroom, facing the bathing area. He'd figured out how to cover them, which he did when he was in the bath and sometimes the music room just to be 'difficult' since he _knew_ Vyraius had to be the one behind the distasteful placement of them.

It also meant there were places in the apartment where there weren't cameras.

In the bathroom, a corner was unobservable and it was in this part of the room that Bill had placed his rucksack. When he'd placed it there, he'd made sure the camera could see that it was empty and he was just putting it there to have it stored out of the way. What the camera couldn't see and only Bill knew, was that the rucksack was cleverly built with a false bottom. In the secret compartment on the bottom of the bag were Bill's secret weapons.

A pocketknife, set of lock-picks, his favorite lighter and a sealed bottle of lighter fluid, a couple of small coils of wire and the hunting knife.

He knew enough about electronics to know how to short out that electronic door lock and enough about picking locks to be able to pick a mechanical lock if need be. He had a package of wooden pencils, which were innocuous on their own but combined with a good lighter, could create a small, distracting fire if necessary and the pocketknife was just good sense, as it could be used for a variety of things, from stripping insulated wires to self defense.

The hunting knife, well... _that_ was for Vyraius.

Once he figured out how to break the lock, things would definitely be looking up.


	16. This Is The Start... Of How It All Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill faces Cerchio at the Tribunal of Alistair Kendick.

_Late Spring, Pantocyclus Palace, The Next Day_

'Crash and burn', didn't even come close to describing what happened the next day.

While Bill's plan was perfectly thought out and probably would have been successful, he never got the opportunity to implement it.

The next morning, Bill awoke to chaos. Or what _seemed_ to be chaos, at least to him.

He opened his eye to two very tall Isosceles on either side of the bed, both armed with truncheons.

"Sifras, your presence is required on the platform. Now."

_No 'sir', not even a 'Mister'._

"What? Do you think I'm going to _fight_ you?" Bill snapped, pushing up in bed. "Geeze, I just woke _up_!"

"Now."

"Okay, okay. Just give me a minute!" Bill got up, shoved past one of the guards and started for the bathroom to splash water on his eye.

He didn't make it that far. A baton blocked his path.

"So I'm thinking a cup of coffee is out of the question?" he grumbled.

"You're required _now_."

"You'd think I was under arrest or something."

"Technically, you are."

_Oh yeah, right. Guess that didn't end when I got here._

"Well isn't that fun?" Bill said acidly.

"No, I don't believe it is," the guard blocking him said humorlessly. "You will accompany us, _now_."

"Yeah, yeah, 'now', I get the concept."

He was escorted to the doorway of his suite and out, where another group of Palace Guards waited. It was in the midst of a group of the Isosceles Palace Guard that Bill was brought through the Palace's residential quarters and onto the Chief's Platform in the Circle Council chamber.

Vyraius awaited him, resplendent in an elegant formal ensemble of pristine white velvet and silver, handsome as ever and just as arrogant as Bill remembered. He turned as Bill was brought in and his eye curled in a triumphant smirk.

"Billy, so _nice_ to see you, _finally_ ," he said smoothly, "are you over your little _tantrum_?"

Bill bit down the snarky, vicious response that he _ached_ to spit at the man and resolutely refused to say anything. 

"Well, I'll take that as a 'no'," Vyraius said and chuckled. "Have a seat, my boy, I have a _surprise_ for you today that I'm _sure_ you'll love." He patted the low chair next to his throne.

Bill frowned, a sick feeling rising in his stomach. "Surprise?" he said before he could stop himself. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you'll see, my boy. You'll see..." Vyraius purred. "Sit. Watch. _Enjoy._ "

Martial, triumphal music began to fill the chamber below. 

It was a soaring, circular space with ranks of elevated boxes for the Council on either side of the platform, a lower level with boxes for representatives of each of the eight provinces and the City and the lowest level, the floor, which took up the rest of the vast space. At each one of the eight massive double doors, stood four Palace Guards. Ranged out throughout the entire circumference was the Circle Militia. There were far too many military men in the space for this to be anything other than what Bill feared it to be.

A Tribunal.

He swallowed hard.

He _knew_ who was to be the subject of the trial.

The Circle Council were filing in at the moment, taking their places in their boxes. Once they were situated, the chamber doors opened, all at once, admitting media teams and Palace reporters, who quickly ranged out on the floor, setting up and taking their positions, while the Prefectures' remaining representatives made their way into their boxes. Bill noticed, with a sinking heart, how _few_ there were now. Teren, Yora, Leva, all loyal to the Circles. Dest, the province next to Cyran, was empty, as were the ones he already knew were gone: Naran, Arca and Rylan. 

He swallowed hard when he realized _Cyran_ was one of those empty boxes.

_What had happened in Cyran? Were they alright? Was Tveir alive?_ Perhaps Tveir had simply refused to attend. It was possible. It was well known that he and Vyraius hated each other. That must be it. That _had_ to be it. He refused to think about the alternative!

He glanced at Vyraius. The man was pointedly ignoring him.

Finally, 'the public' was allowed in; which were really just a selected group of wealthy Capitolites, those who offered to _pay_ the most for the privilege.

_This is going to be a farce,_ Bill thought furiously. _A travesty of epic proportions._

Vyraius was waving at the cameras and the people, chuckling and making cute comments, posing for photos and generally making Bill sick.

"Come on, Billy," Vyraius said, "sit down. You're just making yourself look _more_ like the little prima donna they already think you are. I mean, _look_ at you. You didn't even _dress_ for me!"

"They didn't _let_ me, even if I'd _wanted_ to!" Bill snarled. "They pretty much grabbed me out of bed and marched me here!"

"Yes, well, _they_ don't know that, do they, _Billy_?" Cerchio said with a sneer and a very nasty snicker. He indicated the gathering crowd with a wave of his gloved hand. "To _them_ , you simply look like a spoilt little brat who _continues_ to enjoy snubbing your very _indulgent_ master."

"Oh, you're so put-upon, Vyraius," Bill snapped at him. "You _poor_ thing you!"

"Respect, Billy," Cerchio said, shooting him a dark look. "Sit down. _Now_."

"No," Bill said with a nasty smirk all his own. " _Make_ me. I don't take orders well, _pal_."

"It's no bother to me if you decide to continue to look like a spoilt brat, Billy," Vyraius said, turning back to observe the council chamber as things started to settle down. "It only makes _me_ look better. I'll get what I want from you. _Everything_ I want from you. Be assured of that."

The Speaker of the Council, a large, pale Circle carrying a massive, elaborate Staff of State made his way to a raised rostrum directly below the Chief's platform. He slammed the Staff hard against the floor once, twice, three times.

"SILENCE! This Tribunal will now come to order! All present shall attend to the Circle of Circles, His Supreme Majesty, Vyraius Cerchio!"

The room fell quiet and all eyes turned toward Vyraius as he rose and stepped forward, to the rail of the Royal Platform.

"My good Shapes! Welcome today to this most serious assembly of the People of Flatland. I would that it were a _pleasant_ occasion that necessitates our assembly this day but unfortunately, times being what they are, we are lamentably gathered to pass judgment upon one of our own, a Shape accused of the most _heinous_ crimes against the People of Flatland: Fomenting a Rebellion, Encouraging Terrorism, Commanding Seditious Actions against the Militia charged with the Protection of the People and the most _damnable_ of crimes: Plotting the _Assassination_ of the Circle of Circles."

Bill went very, very still.

"I give to You, my People, the Accused: Alistair Kendrick, also known as _Cipher_! Bring in the Prisoner!"

Everything inside Bill turned to ice as the doors behind the Speaker's rostrum opened and a group of Palace Militia dragged in the chained figure of a very familiar, very beloved Rhomboid.

The Chamber erupted into a hateful din of jeers and shouting as the young man was escorted into the room.

Alistair looked _awful_. He could barely walk on his own, stumbling as he was shoved and mostly dragged across the floor to the prisoner's dock: a raised cage in the center of the chamber. He was placed inside this structure, his chains secured to the bars of the railings and locked inside it. Though the cage had no top to it, there was no way he would be able to escape.

Bill was moving before he could stop himself. He rushed to the railing, crying, "ALISTAIR!" in a high-pitched, terrified voice.

Alistair's eye raised to connect with Bill's. The young man gulped visibly and Bill could _feel_ his strained whisper, " _Bill!_ "

Behind him, he could hear Vyraius' low, triumphant snicker.

"I told you, you'd _enjoy_ this," he purred, placing a hand at Bill's back. "Now _sit down_ like a good little pet and keep _quiet_."

"Alistair," Bill breathed, heart pounding and body filled with ice. "Oh, please no, Alistair..."

"Ah, there's that _please_ again," Vyraius murmured thickly. "I do so _love_ to hear you beg..."

Bill gulped, hands curled tight against the rail, staring down at Alistair as if looking away would destroy the poor Shape. "Alistair..."

_Shh... Bill... shhhh.... this will not be easy for you and I am so, so sorry..._

Bill was on the verge of tears and Alistair's gentle voice in his mind didn't help things.

_No... no Alistair... I-I'll_ do _something... I-I can't let this happen..._

_You have to... it doesn't make sense, I know but you_ must _..._

"Alistair Kendrick, you stand accused of Sedition, plotting the assassination of the Chief Circle, acts of terrorism against the State and Leading a Rebellion against the Rightful government of Flatland. How plead you?" Vyraius' voice boomed across the Chamber.

Alistair took a deep breath, brought himself up to his full height, raised his apex and glared rebelliously back at Cerchio. Despite his horror, Bill was filled with pride as he watched Alistair's bravery even though he was suffering.

"I plead guilty to all charges!" he said, his rich, beautiful voice strong and powerful, defiant and angry. "I _am_ Cipher! And I would do it all again if I could! Free for ALL! The Chief Circle is a dictator who needs to be deposed!"

Bill was standing, horrified and furious and impotent to do anything but watch in dumbfounded silence.

"SILENCE!" Vyraius thundered. "You have no remorse for what you've done, Alistair Kendrick? I'm deeply disappointed in you! Look what you're doing to your former boyfriend!"

"Alistair!" Bill shouted, "I love you!"

"Shut him up!" Vyraius hissed to the Palace Guard, " _Now_!"

One of the Isosceles guards grabbed Bill and yanked him back from the edge of the platform, wrenching his hands from the rail, shoving him back, down to the floor as Bill cried out in pain, scrabbling to try to grab the rail again so he wouldn't lose sight of the Rhomboid. " _Alistair!_ "

The Chief turned back to regard Alistair, coldly. "You refuse to renounce your blasphemous views, Alistair Kendrick?"

"I do," Alistair snarled at him. "I will never renounce them. Flatlanders deserve _freedom_. They deserve _equality_. I will fight until my dying day to help them achieve what they deserve."

"I fear that day might be at hand, young man," Vyraius said in a dark, cold voice. "Members of the Circle Council and this Tribunal, I put it to you. This man stands accused of the Capital crime of Sedition. He denies nothing, indeed has admitted his guilt in front of this august company and refuses to recant his beliefs. I ask for your decision. Judge him as you see fit."

The Circle Council glanced at each other, then, one by one, they stood and pronounced their verdict.

"Guilty." 

The word spread through the chamber, echoing in Bill's apex like a funeral march.

"Guilty... guilty... guilty..."

Bill groaned, unable to help a whimper of pain as he was pushed against the floor by the man standing over him. "...no..." he whispered, "no, no, no..."

Vyraius' voice, when he spoke next, had a tinge of malicious pleasure that only Bill could hear.

"Your decision is guilty. My judgment is the same: Alistair Kendrick, this Court and your King find you Guilty of Sedition. As the Circle of Circles and Supreme Ruler of Flatland, I will now pass sentence: _execution_. To be carried out in this court _immediately_."

Bill heard the sound before he registered that he was the one making it. A cry of utter devastation and despair. Sobbing, he struggled desperately against the Isosceles holding him, fighting like a rabid animal, finally bashing the man in the eye, causing him to shout in pain and stumble backwards, loosing his grip.

Bill surged towards the railing. "ALISTAIR! NO!"

"Sit down, Billy, or I will have you restrained!" Vyraius snarled at him.

"DO YOUR WORST, YOU MONSTER!" Bill screamed at him, his anguished voice screeching high, colored with a rising hysteria.

Spinning on Bill, Vyraius slammed a fist into Bill's midsection, sending him crashing to the floor.

"BILL!" Alistair shouted, "STOP! PLEASE! DON'T DO THIS!"

Bill growled and surged to his feet, with every intention of breaking the Chief Circle in front of everyone but the Palace Guard was faster and this time four of them descended on Bill, dragging him, kicking and screaming, backwards on the platform.

"Chain him!" Vyraius snapped. "He's obviously distraught and most likely drunk..." His voice carried just enough for the reporters and Capitolites below to catch his accusation. "If he tries anything, _hurt_ him," he added in a low aside to the guards. "But make it look _good_."

The commander of the Palace Guards, a beefy Pentagon, nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty," he said with an unpleasant glance towards Bill, "You _know_ we will."

The chair next to the throne was removed and the Guards shoved Bill to his knees next to it, trying to chain him. Bill fought them hard, sobbing furiously but he couldn't stop all four of the Isosceles who were overpowering him. 

A execution squad of Circle Militia were trooping into the chamber below, while the Palace Guards were moving the onlookers back and away from the condemned prisoner. Many of them were being forced to leave, much to their dismay. The chamber was emptying of people quickly. Even the majority of the press were being told to go. Only one team of reporters were allowed to stay, the Palace's own military press, who would continue to record and broadcast the upcoming event to the entire country.

Vyraius settled back into his throne, once he was assured things were in hand in the Chamber and turned to look at Bill.

"You really are a little brat, aren't you, Bill? You knew what Alistair was up to, yet you let him continue his rebellion." His eye narrowed. "Oh I know you may hate me, you may want me dead but you're really just a weak little Triangle, aren't you? It may surprise you but I actually have some _respect_ for that man down there. He may be _insane_ , he may be _wrong_ and he may be a dangerous criminal but he's at least got enough _guts_ to continue to defy me. He's going to _die_ today and he knew that before he came in here. Yet he's not sobbing and screaming about it. He's _strong_ , Billy." He snorted. "But you? You're _powerless_. Pretty, yes. Talented, yes. But that's _all_ you are. You're _mine_. You're not even a cute little paramour anymore, Billy. You're a _slave_. A performing dog. _My_ performing dog. That's all you'll _ever_ be."

Bill glared back up at him. "How can you even still want me when you _know_ how much I hate you?"

"Because I don't _care_. I want you, I will have you and I don't care how you feel about _anything_." He chuckled. "Besides, eventually you'll change your tune. They all do. Lavish living and gifts have a tendency to do that to creatures like you. You'll come around... and then, even _this_ won't matter so much."

_I will kill him. I will kill him and I will_ laugh _as he dies!_

"Attention!" the Captain of the Circle Militia bellowed, his voice filling the room. "Bring forth the condemned!"

Bill's stomach curled into a ball. He watched breathlessly as guards brought Alistair from his cage and shoved him forward. He was made to stand atop a platform in front of the Chief's balcony, arms chained behind his back. He gazed up, silently defiant, standing very still, his gaze sweeping the occupants of the balcony and resting softly on Bill. 

_Be brave, Bill. You know how much I love you. Never give up. Make him pay for everything he's done to you._

Bill gulped.

_Alistair... I-I wanted to help you... I was going to_ save _you..._

_I know. Save your parents... you can do it. I believe in you. I always did. I always_ will _._

"Alistair Kendrick, do you have any last words before you meet your end?" Vyraius said, not even bothering to stand. He considered Alistair coldly, tapping his fingers on the arm of his throne.

Alistair was trembling, just a bit. The Shapes assigned to his dispatch were now beside him, their sharp, black truncators at the ready.

"Only this," Alistair said in the same strong, firm voice that was not loud, yet carried to every Shape in the vast room, "freedom is not for the faint of heart, yet it is everyone's right. I am prepared to die for the equality of all People of Flatland." He took a deep breath and continued, his voice seeming to ring with a strange sort of resonance, "Attend me now and hear what I say: I will not die this day, in _you_ I will live on. You cannot stop what has already begun." He turned his gaze to Cerchio. "Silencing me will not help you, Vyraius Cerchio. Your time is ending, your days are numbered." He looked back at Bill and caught and held his eye. "William, I love you. I will _always_ be with you. Call upon me and I will hear. I will answer. _I will wait for you_."

His voice rang through Bill and he was sobbing, now harder than ever.

_Call me. I will answer. When your need is the greatest, I will come to you. Believe me, please, my love._

_...Alistair...? I don't understand!_

"Execute him!" Vyraius ordered with an audible snarl in his voice. "NOW!"

"ALISTAIR!" Bill screamed even though his guards slammed their batons into his sides, sending bolts of pain shooting through him, "I LOVE YOU!"

The executioners raised their truncators and in one breathless, agonizing instant, swung them.

It was swift. Painless.

Bill collapsed, gasping as the weapons finished their deadly arcs.

Where kind, smart, loyal and incredibly courageous Alistair Kendrick had once stood, lay three sections of what had been a beloved Rhombus, in a pool of black blood.


	17. Disharmonious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill faces his inner demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the episode "Change of Mind" of the Prisoner for the title and Bill's speech in this chapter.

_Late Spring, Pantocyclus Palace, A Few Days Later_

In his mind, he was screaming.

In reality, he couldn't. Not here. He didn't have the luxury of running to a safe place and screaming his apex off until he was so hoarse he couldn't make a sound.

He couldn't cry anymore.

In those first awful days, he'd cried, he drank, he sat in the chair, staring unseeing into the garden until a servant finally poked him to see if he were still alive.

It woke him up, in more ways than one.

Alistair wouldn't want him to fall into grief, to wallow in his misery and despair.

He still had a job to do.

Alistair wasn't Cipher, _Bill_ was. And Cipher needed to get back to work.

_I'm not gonna give up, Alistair. I-I'm sorry, I just got..._

Staring out that window, Bill's brain whirled, running hard and fast. His grief was his best defense. The servants would continue to report that Bill was desolate in despair, drinking himself into a stupor every night. If he had to, he'd dump the booze down the drain just to keep up the pretence.

His top priority right now, was to get in contact with his people in the Palace. He needed to find his parents. He needed to find out if Cyran was alright, if Tveir and the Kendricks were still alive, if the village, Dan, Nancy, Theus, _everyone_ were alright. He didn't have much hope left, not after losing Alistair, not after seeing the empty Prefecture boxes in the Circle Council but he _had_ to have hope. Even a little bit.

Without hope, he might as well just drown himself in the alcohol and be done with it.

_At least I'd be with Alistair._

He buried his eye in his hands, hunching over in the chair.

The tears did come then. Quiet, gut-wrenching tears that slid down his Shape and to the floor.

***

_The Next Day_

"Sir? Hey, hello? Sir?" 

Bill ignored the woman, staring out the window.

"I'm a nurse. They sent me to assess your health. Sir? You've been drinking unhealthily for several days and the Chief Circle is concerned--"

"He can go to-- _hiccup_ \-- hell."

The nurse sighed. "You can _feel free_ to speak with me, sir."

Bill grumbled and grudgingly looked over at her.

The Line considered him quietly a moment, then, adjusting her glasses, reached into the medical bag she carried and produced a thermometer. She leaned toward him, taking his temperature.

"I don't feel free," he said carefully, "a person doesn't feel free when they know they're being watched."

"I understand that," she said, noting the information on a clipboard and reaching back into her bag. When she stood back up, she held a stethoscope which she used to listen to his heartbeat. "However, what they think they're seeing is not what's going on here." Her eye curved into a very slight smile. "It's nice to see you again, _Cipher_."

Bill blinked and stared at her. "Rose? Rose Evergreen?"

"Yes. After... uh... the Trial, Tvier asked for volunteers to help you." She swallowed hard. " _Everyone_ wanted to go but I was the first who offered. We couldn't risk losing Daniel or Nancy or..." Her gaze dropped. "Theus. I... Bill. There wasn't hardly anyone else left. Varien and Risa... _Cyran_ , Bill... I-I'm so sorry... there's not much left anymore."

Bill stared.

"No... No... Varien and Risa... they were, they-they... no!"

"The day Alistair was executed, they came. Bombed the house with them inside. Then they turned on the villages."

"But nobody _knew_ about Cyran!"

"They did it because they wanted to send a message. They destroyed the Kendricks because they were Alistair's family. And the Prefecture because it was your home. Tveir says that was a double message. One to the rest of the country and one to you."  
"So I wouldn't have a home to go back to," Bill breathed. "He punished you to punish me. That's how petty he is." He took a deep breath. "D-do you think they know? A-about the rebellion in Cyran?"

"No," Rose said softly. "Tveir has been extremely careful. The rebellion is still _alive_ , Bill. We're still working, we're still _fighting_. We knew you needed help. What you didn't know, which was why it's taken so long to get to you, was that those of ours who were here before they brought you in had been taken. It happened so fast, we don't even really know _why_. Nobody _could_ help you at first." She looked at something in her bag. "We don't have much time. The decoy video is only fifteen minutes. Longer than that and they might suspect something's wrong." She showed him a small transistor radio that was a duplicate of the one on the bedside table, which she swiped and tucked in her medical bag. "This will disrupt the cameras for about fifteen seconds at a time. Enough that it will look like generic interference but not enough to attract attention. It's also got a signal interrupter that will disable the door locks if you need. Inside the battery compartment are some useful toys. You'll know what to do with them. You can figure out the rest of what my little radio can do on your own." Her eye smiled. "Trust me, you'll like it."

Bill offered a tired smile back. "Thank you, Rose."

"I know what you're planning to do," she said quietly, putting her medical things away. "I'll do everything in my power to ensure you are able to complete your mission." She leaned towards him and kissed his apex. "I'll come back soon, tomorrow if I can arrange it. The decoy video just shows me giving you a medical exam with you here in the chair."

"How?"

"I'm clever, Cipher," she said. "I'm a scientist, you know." She winked. "Just like you, I like to _know_ things." She moved back into the same position she was earlier. "Remember Arthur Square," she murmured, glancing into her bag again. "In three, two..." 

Bill slumped again into his chair as she counted down.

"Alright, sir," Rose said, her voice professional once again, "I guess I'll just have to come back tomorrow."

"Don't knock yerself out," Bill slurred.

"My advice, stop drinking."

"Sure."

Shaking her top segment, Rose picked up her bag and let herself out.

Bill pushed himself heavily out of the chair and stumbled over to the bed, 'accidentally' bumping the radio Rose had replaced. It made a very low staticy sound. Sitting on the bed, he grumbled drunkenly and picked the radio up. Pressing the power button, he waited to see what it would do. Staticy classical music began to play from the Capital radio station. A small green light blinked on the back of the thing, then went steady. Hmm. He waited and after about fifteen seconds, it blinked off. Okay. So that was the interrupt.

He lay back on the bed, clutching the radio to his chest with a whimper, a groan and a sniffle, like a good little drunk.

Closing his eye, he tried to deal with all the information he'd just been given. He-he _couldn't_ let the staggering losses affect him. Not right now. He had to focus, to take what he knew, what people were doing to help him and use it. He couldn't continue to exist in this limbo forever. He _knew_ Vyraius would call for him, he knew that this respite he'd been allowed was only the Chief's way of torturing him further, without laying a hand on him. Yet.

Rose hadn't mentioned his parents. That might be because she actually didn't know where they were or that they were dead and she didn't want to burden him with further misery. He didn't think she was the type to sugar-coat the truth, so he was going to go on the assumption that they were alive. He needed to make sure that no matter what happened to him in the next days, his parents were protected and safe. He couldn't lose anyone else.

He whimpered again, only this time it was real. Sorrow welled up inside him.

Varien and Risa were blameless, _truly_ innocent bystanders in this hideous war and Cerchio wiped them out with a word. Just as he had Alistair.

As he had the Prefectures and their innocent people.

Just because they knew or were the home of rebels.

Was it worth it? How many people were _left_? In the Prefectures? Were there only a few, like Cyran? Or were they now desolate wastelands where the only living things were scavengers, picking the frames of the dead?

_I never meant for this to happen!_

He sobbed softly.

_I-it's_ my _fault... I-I'm the one who caused this... all those people,_ dead _because_ I _wanted to be something_ more _than I was..._

Maybe Cerchio was right. Maybe he _was_ a selfish weakling.

The thought echoed in his brain, growing louder and louder until it was a deafening scream.

_Weak... Selfish... Powerless... It's your fault, Bill! ALL YOUR FAULT!_

"No... no... no..." He sobbed, curling up in his bed, hugging the radio hard. "No... no... I'm not... I--"  
The radio made that same clicking sound and the music went silent. Gulping, he looked down. The little green light was on.

Fifteen seconds of freedom.

Fifteen seconds.

Coughing, his fingers found the battery compartment and opened it before his brain really registered what he was doing. Inside was a vial of some kind of liquid, another electronic component, a compact, fold up knife...

The green light went out and Bill rolled on top of the radio, laying there. His brain was clearer now but the angry, vicious voices were still echoing.

_If it were your fault, if you were just being selfish, why would all of these people risk their lives to help you, Bill?_

Under his frame, he managed to clip the battery compartment's lid back on the radio. Carefully, he rolled back over, trying not to trigger the interrupt again. It was too useful to toy with.

He set the radio back on the table and closed his eye, feigning sleep. He tried to quiet the echoing in his brain but it was hard. Without even Alistair's occasional telepathic contact, he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep himself focused.

_'Call on me and I will answer.' What did that mean? How can I call on him when he's... g-gone?_ He fought down a sniffle as he wrapped his arms around himself and hugged, imagining it was Alistair. _I-I... I can't..._

_Yes. You can._

He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not and he didn't care.

_Yes, you can, Bill. You can do this. You've_ been _doing it. You're_ Cipher! _Bill... Cipher... BILL CIPHER... and_ BILL CIPHER _can do ANYTHING HE WANTS!_

The voice in his head wasn't Alistair's, it didn't even sound like Bill's own.

It was higher. It was sharp, loud, supremely confident... _crazier_ , yet...

It was completely, perfectly _his_.

***

_That Evening_

"William Sifras, you have been summoned to attend the Chief this evening in his residence."

Bill blinked sleepily, opening his eyes to the Palace Guard, standing next to his bed, yet again.

"Let me guess, 'now'."

"Yes. Arise and dress and be quick about it."

He sighed deeply. At least this time he had a chance to wash his upper angle and splash water over his aching eye. 'Dress' probably meant putting on one of those god-awful jackets that were in his closet. "Fine. Give me a few minutes at least."

He got up and headed into the bathroom, kicking the door closed in the Isosceles' eye as he did so. The towel still hung over the camera, so that was a small mercy. He washed and went into the closet, picking the least disgusting of the jackets he'd been provided with, a gray and black brocade that would actually have been kind of elegant if the brocade was done in a smaller thread and the designs were less gaudy. Quickly, he padded over to his knapsack, extracted the knife he'd brought and tucked it into the coat's inside pocket. It was a touch heavy but when he buttoned the jacket, you couldn't tell. It was why he'd picked that knife in particular. It was flat, sharp and small.

Not that he expected to use it, not _yet_ but it was a comfort. Just in case.

He opened the door and confronted a seething Isosceles. "I'm ready," he said.

"Come on, you," the guard snapped, pushing Bill towards the door.

Outside there were two other Palace Guards, who all escorted Bill through the Palace to the Royal suite. They left him in the Chief's sitting room, an overdecorated, blindingly white, gaudy space full of chunky antique furniture, with pretentious portraits of Vyraius on every wall and a large, fully stocked bar in the corner. A gigantic, almost throne-like silver and white chair sat next to the massive marble fireplace, which was already quite bright and had been burning for a while.

Bill grumbled to himself, sitting down in one of the smaller chairs closest to the door, folding his hands in his lap.

"Well, well, well... don't we look elegant tonight?"

Bill cringed. He didn't even bother to disguise his reaction as Vyraius swept into the room, dressed, as always, in sparkling white and silver, this time a tailored smoking jacket. He held a glass of wine, which he sipped as he settled into the large chair next to the fireplace. A servant followed the monarch into the room, taking a position at the bar in the corner of the room.

"What would you like, Billy?" Vyraius said conversationally, as though there were no hostility between them. "Wine, mixed drink? Though from what I have been told, perhaps coffee or tea would be healthier for you."

"Why would you care about my health?" Bill said acidly, "you don't care about my feelings."

"If you die on me then all this effort is wasted," Vyraius said with a shrug. "Bring him coffee," he said to the servant.

"Yes, your Majesty."

"What do you want from me?" Bill said even though he knew the answer.

"A nice, romantic evening. That's all."

"Romantic? Like the last time? When you tried to take advantage of me even after I told you no?" Bill snapped, taking the cup from the servant, who bowed to Vyraius and left. He looked into the cup. It smelled rich and delicious, just like coffee but Bill wasn't about to drink it. He wondered if he could dump the contents into a potted plant or one of the myriad decorations in the room when Vyraius wasn't looking.

"Awww, that was _fun_ , wasn't it?"

"Not for me."

"You'll learn," Vyraius said with a snicker. "You'll enjoy it. Trust me. I'm quite good."

"Is that what all your slaves tell you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. My wife and my courtesans as well. I'm not boasting. Just being truthful."

"I'm not interested."

"Awww, you're still hurt about that little tribunal, aren't you?"

Bill coughed. "Yeah! Just a bit!" he snapped. "Besides the fact that you _punched_ me, ordered your men to _beat_ me, you _killed_ my fiancé!"

" _I_ didn't kill him. He was executed." Vyraius said dismissively with a wave of his hand. "I didn't have a choice. He was a criminal and admitted his guilt."

Bill growled under his breath and swept the room with his eye. It wasn't going to help matters to argue with the man. He needed information and he needed to get it from Vyraius, any way he could.

He swallowed hard. _Any way_.

"Look, you know and I know what you did," he began stiffly, "and we both know how I feel about it and you. And I know that you're the one with the power here. Doesn't mean I won't continue to fight you, 'cause I hate you and I want out of here. However, you have somethin' I want to keep safe."

"Oh?" Vyraius said, taking a long sip of his wine, drawing the pause out as long as he could. Bill took that opportunity, while the Circle's eye-mouth was occupied, to dump the coffee into a decorative pot next to his chair. "What could I possibly have of yours? I think I took care of that bothersome lover."

When the Circle spoke again, Bill pretended to be drinking his coffee.

"My parents," he said simply, refusing to play Vyraius' game.

"Oh yes, those sweet old people. I'd forgotten about them."

"I'm sure you did."

"Well, yes. There is that, isn't there? How is the coffee, Billy? It's the best in the country. I won't settle for anything less."

"Excellent," Bill said quietly, forcing himself to stay in character. "My parents. I-I want to see them. I-I want to make sure they're still alright."

"Hmm... well... that might be difficult," Vyraius said airily. "You see, they're not here."

Bill gulped hard, gritting his teeth behind his eye. He closed the eye and took a deep breath fighting down his fury, his fear.

"Where are they?" he bit out, opening his eye and glaring at the Circle.

"At my wife's home. They're her guests. She's taking _good_ care of them."

"What are they doing there?"

"Oh, my dear boy, they're her servants! She _adores_ them!"

Bill's eye went wide. "Servants?"

"Of course, what else was I going to do with them? They couldn't just _live_ here, sponging off me!" Vyraius chuckled, a slight slur in his voice, "I had an idea, so I sent them to Empress Desa. She loves them! And they're living somewhere much more pleasant that some little cell in my prison!"

"P-prison?"

_Stay calm, Bill... he's getting drunk... you can_ use _this! Don't let your emotions get in the way! Remember,_ you're _the one with the power. Not him._

"Well, sure, they didn't _like_ it there, so..."

"Of course they didn't!" Bill snapped, watching him. He swallowed hard and fought to keep his emotions in check. Emotions were good, he could use them to let Vyraius think he was drugged and agitated but he couldn't let them derail his critical thinking. He had to stay in control. He was _Bill Cipher_ , he was _powerful_. He had to _use_ the power he was being given here. Use it against Vyraius. "I wanna _see_ them!" He hiccuped, blinking, making sure Vyraius saw him do it.

"Awww, awww... B-Billy, don't be like that!"

"I want to see them, or I won't... I-I won't do anything--"

"You will, whether you see them or not, Billy."

"Stop calling me 'Billy'!" Bill snarled, thinking. "I don't believe you. You could have killed them for all I know."

"I don't kill old folks."

"And they're not 'old'!" Bill snapped, wobbling a little, rubbing his eye, "t-they're the same age a-as you are." He looked into his coffee cup. "Th-this tastes funny." He blinked, blearily looking at Vyraius. "Why?"

"You just have no appreciation of good coffee."

"Tell me the truth, Vyraius," Bill said softly, swallowing hard. "Are my parents alive? You have no reason to lie. I'm your prisoner... a-an' I can't escape, can I?"

"Hmm," the Circle said, weaving a little in his chair himself. "That-that's true, isn't it? You _are_ my prisoner. And you _can't_ escape no matter what I tell you. Be they alive or dead, you can't stop me from doing exactly what I want." He chuckled. " _Nobody_ can stop me. Not you, not my own people, not the Circle Council, not those damned revolutionaries, _no one_!"

_I CAN,_ that voice, that slightly deranged, high-pitched tenor whispered in Bill's mind, _I WILL._

"Vyraius," Bill said softly, standing, "tell me. Tell me the _truth_."

The Circle looked up at him. "And if I do?"

"I'll do everything you want me to," Bill purred, "just _tell me_."

"Oh you will?" Vyraius looked pleased, as though he was sure all his plans were about to come to fruition. "Everything, eh?"

Bill's eye smiled. A sense of supreme calm filled him. It was as if the voice, the strange confidence of it, had quieted all of his anger and confusion. "Of course, I will. Just tell me the truth."

_YES, YES HE WILL... THEN HE WILL DIE..._

Bill reached out and ran a finger over the Circle's side. He didn't even feel disgust at the action, only a steely coldness. He would do what he had to to find out the truth and if it meant making Vyraius think he'd have sex with him, he'd do it.

_HE WON'T TOUCH ME. HE WON'T GET THAT FAR._

"Aww, Billy, I knew you'd come around," Vyraius said, smiling, trailing his own fingers over Bill's hand. "Well, since you're being so nice... I knew that coffee would help you relax..." He gave a small laugh. "It's very good and it has a very special blend that _always_ works."

_So he did drug it. Bastard._

"Mmhmm," Bill murmured, a growing dark realization prompting his next words, "Tell me the truth about my parents. They're dead, aren't they?"

"Well, that's the thing, Billy--" Vyraius said, turning slightly to look into the fire, "--they didn't really last very long here, after the _incident_ , you see."

Bill was cold. Ice cold. He didn't, _couldn't_ feel anything.

_DON'T LOSE FOCUS._

"Explain."

"We got them here and they were miserable. In the prison, working every day in the kitchen, taking care of the prisoners... It was a _kindness_ , Bill. After your mother tried to break Alistair out and your father attempted to poison me, well... I _couldn't_ let them live after that."

"Poison you?"

"He conspired with the rebellion that had infiltrated my Palace to sneak poison into my wine... so _everyone_ had to die. All of those horrible, horrible rebels. Your _parents_ were part of it, didn't you know? You really are a ignorant little moron, aren't you?"

In a way it was good that he couldn't feel anything at the moment, Bill thought absently. Otherwise he would have been screaming and bashing the Circle against the fireplace until every stupid infinite angle was shattered. He reached inside his jacket, while Vyraius was staring into the fireplace.

"As you say," Bill murmured, keeping the same quiet, drugged attitude so as not to alert the man. He drew the knife, his fingers tightening around the handle. "You're right, of course. Quite right. I'm inadequate. Disharmonious. I'm truly grateful to you, sir. Truly, truly grateful."

"Now you're making sense, Billy," Vyraius said. "You see why I had to do it."

" _YES,_ " Bill hissed, his voice taking on that sharp, dangerous tone.

Vyraius stiffened.

Bill plunged the knife into the Shape's exposed back.

The Circle screamed, twisted in his chair, staring at Bill in dumbfounded shock as he struggled, shoving Bill back, away from him.

"GUARDS!"

Bill stumbled, still clutching the knife, staring back at Vyraius, in shock himself. The voice in his head, however, was laughing. A sharp, shrieking, maniacal laugh that threatened to spill from his mind into his body.

The doors flew open at Vyraius' scream and the Palace Guard was on top of Bill before he could make another move on the Chief.

"He tried to kill me!" Vyraius screeched.

"You're the idiot who turned your back on a man who _HATES_ you!" Bill snarled back in the same almost hysterical voice as he struggled against the Palace Guards who were restraining him. "You tried to _drug_ me, you _MURDERED_ my parents and my _friends_ and my _lover_ and you _destroyed_ my _home_! YOU DESERVE TO DIE, VYRAIUS CERCHIO."

Bleeding, whimpering in pain as his servants were attempting to treat his wound, Vyraius' eye widened. He glared back at Bill.

"You... no! N-not _you_ , not my little Billy, it-it _can't_ be! You- _you're_ \--- _CIPHER_!"

A shrill, high-pitched, insane laugher filled the chamber and it took a moment for Bill to realize it was coming from _him_. "WELL, WELL, WELL! Give the man a cigar! TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, YOU FOOL!"

"Throw him in Kendrick's cell!" Cerchio bellowed in pain and fury, "Make him _pay_ for what he's done here tonight, for what he's done to this country, to his _people_! Torture him, _break_ him, I don't care! PUNISH HIM! MAKE HIM _SCREAM_!"

Bill could do nothing but shriek that grating, high-pitched crazy laugh as they dragged him from the Chief's apartments and down into the prison, Vyraius' screams and curses following him the entire way.


	18. The Schizoid Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Bill Cipher' makes his appearance and an important truth is revealed. Bill faces the last challenge of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the episodes "The Chimes of Big Ben" and "The Schizoid Man" of the Prisoner for inspiring Bill's speech in this chapter and the chapter title.

Chapter Eighteen: The Schizoid Man

_Unknown, Pantocyclus Palace, Dungeon_

_You did what you had to do, Bill. You knew it wouldn't work but you had to do it. He will suffer now, he will wonder where the next attack will come from. This will drive him mad and the people will rise to destroy him themselves._

_You're a hero, even now, the whispers in the streets are saying that Cipher has returned... that the_ real _Cipher took his vengeance... your name is whispered with reverence and respect..._

_You did not fail._

_You_ triumphed _._

_Your work is done here..._

_FOR NOW._

Bill lay silently in his cell. Time blurred into what was now only a long, dark haze of torment punctuated only by the _voice_ that echoed in his mind. That same, weird, _crazy_ voice that he'd begun to call 'Bill Cipher'. It constantly spoke to him, telling him things there was no way he could know but at the same time, he knew were _true_. 

He knew it now, he was becoming _unhinged_.

The cell door opened, admitting the Circle who was the source of his misery, Vyraius Cerchio.

He pushed up, struggling to his feet, glaring at the Chief Circle. 

"What now, Cerchio?" he growled.

"You should know how it goes by now," he hissed back, "are you going to give me the names of your accomplices?"

"You should know my answer to that," Bill said coldly.

"Then you should know what happens next."

"You can torture me all you want," Bill said, "I won't snitch on my friends."

"I've already found some of them... I will find the rest whether you 'snitch' or not, I'm just trying to be generous, to give you an opportunity to avoid more anguish."

Bill snorted, weaving slightly on his feet. "You're reprehensible, Cerchio. What's truly _sad_ is that you actually _believe_ you're being magnanimous. You're not." He growled and stepped back to support himself against the wall. "Mark my words, I am _going_ to escape, somehow, some way."

"Are you?" He laughed darkly. " _You_? Escape _here_? You really _are_ losing what's left of your mind, Billy."

Bill just glared back at him. "I _will_ escape. Escape, and come back."

Cerchio snickered. "Oh? Come back?"

"Yes. Escape and come back. I'll come back and wipe this place off the face of the earth. Obliterate it and you with it."

Cerchio laughed fully then, hard.

"You _are_ going insane, Bill. I only hope I'm around to see that."

_TRUST ME. HE WILL BE._

Bill could only glare back at the man, the voice of 'Bill Cipher' ringing through his brain. 

_He's right about one thing,_ Bill thought, fighting to keep his balance, _I_ am _going mad._

***

_Unknown, Pantocyclus Palace, Dungeon_

He slumped, flat on the floor.

He couldn't even whimper. He could hardly _breathe_. Pain radiated through his body, his frame ached, his Shape was battered and bruised. He couldn't do anything other than lie there, barely even able to think. Wishing for death required _effort_.

That was one thing Vyraius Cerchio could do extremely well, _torture_ people.

Bill was nearly broken by now. He had a pretty high pain tolerance but it had never _really_ been put to the test.

He didn't even know how long he'd been here. Hours blended with days and all he really knew was that Cerchio never seemed to tire of coming up with new ways to torment him.

Vyraius did most of it _personally_. Once he'd taken over from his Royal Inquisitors, he'd dedicated himself to making sure Bill _suffered_ for what he'd done. 

He'd even stopped asking questions.

And Bill did suffer. Not only from the physical torture but from everything that burned through his mind on the rare occasions when 'Bill Cipher' was quiet. He was left with pain he could barely tolerate. In that, the torture Cerchio put him through was almost a _blessing_. The pain blotted out everything else. He couldn't think, couldn't _dwell_ on everything that had happened, on the death and the horror that he knew was happening outside the Palace. On Alistair, his parents, the resistance and everyone else who had suffered because of him.

He wanted to die. He _prayed_ he would die.

At least then, he could try and explain to the ghosts of his parents, to Alistair, to Varien and Risa and everyone else who'd gone on ahead of him.

He moaned, shifting a little, sending pain shooting through his Shape.

_Call my name. I will answer._

Alistair's words kept echoing in his mind, any time there was a little break from his regrets, his sorrow, his pain, his _madness_. He clung to the echo of that beloved voice, _willing_ it to fill him with the remembered sensation of Alistair's love.

Yet...

_Call your name? How_ can _you answer me, Alistair? You're_ gone _..._

He groaned softly.

"Alistair," he whispered, "I miss you so much... I-I wish you were here... I wish you'd come and take me with you..."

_Call my name and I will answer, William. I love you so very much. Be still, my love. I will come._

He _must_ be dying. Finally.

Sobbing softly, Bill whispered Alistair's name, over and over. "Alistair..."

The room shimmered. Even lying eye-down, Bill could see it, _sense_ it, a little anyway. With a supreme effort, he pushed himself over, so he flopped on his back, like a beached fish. Gasping, like the aforementioned fish, he lay there, staring at the black ceiling of the cell. 

Except it wasn't black. Not really. It was... a kinda cloudy, shimmering dark gray? It was a shade of gray he'd _never_ seen before. He didn't even know what to call it, it was a-a... _color_...

Death wasn't what he thought it was, if he got to see colors... Colors were illegal... He'd never seen anything other than black, white, myriad shades of gray and silver.

The shimmering color above him began to coalesce into a figure. A Shape.

A Rhomboid.

The Shape floated above him as it continued to take form and began to resemble the very, very beloved figure of _Alistair_.

"Alistair?" Bill breathed, "am I dead?"

"No, not yet," the angelic figure of Alistair whispered in a breathy voice. "Not yet. If things continue th' way they're goin', you will be. Soon, Bill."

"Please take me with you."

"I will but not just yet. I-I have somethin' t' tell you. Somethin' _wonderful_. Remember when I said I'd tell y' everythin'? I can now."

Alistair drifted to the floor and reached down to draw Bill gently up. The moment he touched his frame, the pain vanished. Bill pressed against Alistair, hugging him tightly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-I--"

"Shhh, it's okay, Bill. Shhh... jus' let me talk, I haven't much time."

Bill clung to Alistair. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake.

"What's this color," he babbled, "I've never seen it before... is there color like this where you are? Will I see color in the afterlife--?"

"Oh, you're so inquisitive, I missed that so much!" Alistair said with a chuckle. "Shhh, Billy, my love, I need to tell you the truth."

"Truth?"

"Yes... please. Listen, Bill, there's so much you don't know about me. I-I'm not what you knew me as. I was sent to collect you--"

"By the ghosts of the afterlife?"

"Not exactly. I'm not really a Flatlander. I only took that form t' meet you an' learn about you. I was sent t' recruit you t' join me an' others like me." He sighed a little. "Billy, I'm a demon. I know that sounds bad but we're not really."

Bill looked at him in confusion. "Demon? But you don't--"

"I know. Your Circles denounced creatures like me as evil but we're not. We're more like muses. Creatures who help mortals achieve their potentials, their dreams. Many cultures depict demons more like supernatural spirits who can help or hinder mortals, your culture is simply one that doesn't."

Bill blinked. "Alistair? How could you be--"

"I'm a shifter. I can take on any shape I need to. My native form is what you would call three-dimensional." His eye smiled a little. "The third dimension _is_ real, Bill. I can _show_ you! We can be together, all we need to do is for you to _agree_ to become the same as I am."

Bill stared at him.

This was impossible. He must be delusional, this must be some kind of hallucination brought on by the torment his physical body had gone through. He _must_ be close to death, this couldn't be _real_.

"It's real, Bill," Alistair said. "And we haven't much time left. I can't take you if you die." He kissed his apex. "My love, you haven't much time. Your body is failing and Cerchio wants to subject you to Tribunal before you die. I can't let tha' happen. I-I _love_ you too much t' lose you... I-I can _save_ you, Bill, you jus' have to _agree_ t' let me."

Alistair _couldn't_ be evil. He'd never done _anything_ that would have been considered evil. Bill had never had any cause to doubt Alistair, _ever_. Alistair had been communicating telepathically with him for a long time, he'd always tried very hard to _help_ everyone he'd come across. He'd loved and supported Bill, cared for his parents and been sweet and gentle and _good_. 

"Varien, Risa... Alistair, they _killed_ them..."

"I know," Alistair whispered. "I know."

"You _can't_ be real," Bill whimpered. "I _want_ you to be but you-you _can't_."

Alistair sighed. "Well. If I _was_ real and I asked you to _join_ me, would you?"

"Of course!" Bill cried, "I'd do _anything_ to be with you!"

" _Yes_ ," Alistair whispered. "Bill, I need you to take my hand, then. I need you to agree to this deal. I need you to--"

The door to the cell slammed open and Bill slumped to the floor as Alistair vanished.

"ALISTAIR!" Bill screamed, all the pain blasting back through his body.

Cerchio strode into the cell.

"You're losing it, Sifras," he snarled, kicking Bill as he crumpled into the floor. "Come on. Your time has come."

***

_Unknown, Pantocyclus Palace, Circle Council Chamber_

It was the exact same Tribunal, with fewer people.

Bill was dragged in chains to the prisoner's dock, the same one Alistair had occupied.

Only the Chief, the Council and the Palace Militia were here to witness Cipher's ultimate humiliation this time.

Cerchio didn't _want_ this trial broadcast. Bill wasn't the only one humiliated.

Vyraius Cerchio didn't want the entire country to see how much of an idiot he was. How he'd been _so_ wrong about Cipher. How he'd executed an innocent man while keeping the _real_ Cipher so very close to him. How the _real_ Cipher nearly killed him.

So Bill's trial was kept quiet.

Very quiet.

The room was _eerily_ quiet.

"William Sifras," the Speaker said, glaring coldly at him, "you stand accused of Sedition, attempted assassination and Crimes against the People of Flatland. It is the finding of this Council that you are guilty and the sentence is immediate execution."

"Not even letting _him_ pronounce sentence this time?" Bill grated, barely able to stand at this point.

"There's no need," Cerchio snapped. "Everyone here knows what you did. I only wish you would last longer so I could torture you more. But you're dying so I might as well be merciful."

"Bastard," Bill hissed. "Weak, powerless bastard."

"Powerless?" Cerchio growled, "would a powerless man _destroy_ Cyran Prefecture and everyone in it? I did. Everyone you knew is dead, William. And that's _your_ fault, not mine."

Bill just stared back at him. It didn't even hurt him anymore. Nothing did. Nothing _could_. It wasn't a surprise. Cerchio was mad.

"You're insane."

"Perhaps," Cerchio said, glaring down at him. "But _I_ hold your life in my hands. I hold _everyone's_ lives in my hands. They live or die at my command!"

"What are you going to do when I'm dead?" Bill shouted, "You won't have anyone else to torment! You've nearly destroyed the entire country!"

"I have my loyal Prefectures. My City."

"Maybe... what's to say someone in your _loyal_ City won't rise up again? The _people_ know, Cerchio! They won't be content with your bread and circuses for much longer! The people _know_ what you've done. They won't be _complacent_ for much longer... And you will _think_ about what they know and _wonder_ how much longer you will be safe in your little palace... it will _eat_ at you... drive you _madder_ than you already are... You will strike out at them, even if they don't do a thing, because you will _think_ that they're plotting to destroy you... You will _destroy_ even your most loyal supporters because you will suspect _everyone_ around you!"

"Silence, Sifras! You're desperate to prevent your death!"

"No, I'm not," Bill growled. "I'm ready to die. Are _you_?"

"Are you threatening me again?"

"I don't have to. My work has been done. The people _know_ , Vyraius. They _know_ and they will not _forget_."

Vyraius stepped closer to the edge of the platform. "William Sifras, you are an ungrateful, seditious whore who _deserves_ to die!"

"I may be ungrateful. I _am_ seditious and _proud_ of it! I am _not_ , however, a whore. I wouldn't fuck you if you paid me!"

The Chief Circle turned livid gray and sputtered a few seconds before he screamed, " _EXECUTE HIM_!"

The Palace Guard who had been standing ready on either side of Bill raised their truncators.

At that moment, Bill cried out, " _Alistair! I accept!_ "

And at that moment, as the truncators came down, everything stopped and went gray. Well, that odd shade of gray that Alistair's presence now seemed to create. That odd, shimmering gray that almost seemed silver.

Alistair's strange form coalesced in front of Bill, while everything else around him was frozen. He blinked.

"Wow, Billy, you never do anything by halves, do you?"

Bill just stared at him.

Alistair hovered above the floor, his Shape that beautiful shade of soft grayish _color_ that Bill didn't know the name of. His eye smiled.

"It's a deal," he said, extending his hand, which erupted in what looked like flickering flames in an even more amazing bright color that glimmered and shimmered enticingly.

Without hesitation, Bill reached out and clasped Alistair's hand. The flames extended and played over Bill's hand with a kind of warm, comforting sensation. Alistair drew him close, pulling him against him and kissed his eye softly, sliding his other arm around Bill's frame.

All the pain vanished. All he felt was sensual warmth, comfort and love.

So much love.

He kissed Alistair back and snuggled into him. Whether he actually died or not, at this point, Bill didn't care.

Everything spun around him. Looking back, he realized his body was still in the dock with the Guard still poised to truncate him.

"You're not dead," Alistair murmured. "That's just your old body. An inert shell. You're not there anymore. They don't know that. They will kill the old William Sifras. The _new_ William is here, in my arms." He kissed him again. " _Safe_. Immortal."

Bill was floating, even without Alistair holding him up. _Floating_. In space. "How...?"

Alistair laughed softly. "Come on. Let's leave this place. You don't need to see this, if you don't want to."

Bill shook his apex. "No. I need to see it."

He turned to watch as the world slowly began move again. It was weird, watching everything happening around him, though nobody seemed to see the two of them floating there, in a swirl of shimmering colors.

Even when the truncators came down and destroyed the small gray triangle, Bill didn't _feel_ anything. He watched his body fall in pieces to the floor. Watched his blood splash the floor and the Guards as they turned away from what remained, watched Cerchio snarl in anger and turn away. It was like watching a pantomime, a program on television. It wasn't _real_. It was something far removed from what he was now.

"Bill," Alistair said softly, "we need to go."

"Where?"

"The third dimension."


	19. Yellow!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill learns about his new existence as a Hunter Demon. Alistair reveals his true form and Bill is summoned... to the Atae.

_The Third Dimension, Alistair's Domain_

Alistair's color, Bill learned, was lavender.

Bill's new form was a color called _yellow_.

He liked it. It fit him, felt _right_. It was bright, warm. It was the _best_ color as far as he was concerned. He _loved_ color. He _loved_ yellow. He _loved_ Alistair for showing it to him. One of the very first things he'd done was _learn_ the names of _every_ color Alistair introduced him to. His favorites were all amazing, bright, sunny shades of yellow (of course), the expensive, sumptuous metallics of gold, the hot, fiery colors of orange, the soft, cool shades of violet and the rich, sensual, passionate colors of red.

He loved _everything_ about his new existence. Even the things Alistair told him about what he was expected to do now that he was a three-dimensional, immortal creature that was technically called a 'Hunter Demon'.

The 'demon' thing didn't even bother him. He'd actually thought it _might_ at first but when it came down to it, the 'job' was pretty much _exactly_ how Alistair had explained it to him. With a few exceptions, though he'd chalked those omissions up to the fact that Alistair didn't have much time to really go into detail. He'd said 'demon', which was enough.

They'd spent the next several days? weeks? _years?_ in a kind of blissful honeymoon-like daze of love, companionship and for Bill, a heady whirl of experience and experimentation with his newfound immortality and amazing, nearly _infinite_ powers.

The place Alistair had brought him to was, from what Bill was able to understand, Alistair's home dimension, a small Shadow of reality that was _all_ Alistair's. He kept a small mansion that was a three-dimensional reflection of the Kendricks' home in Cyran, so at least that was familiar to Bill.

Alistair had given him a suite that was an exact replica of Bill's own, down to a kind of two-dimensionality, if he'd wanted it. Bill didn't. He _loved_ his new three-dimensional form, which was essentially his own form, just a bit... _thicker_. 

He loved _everything_ about his new body. He loved to spin, floating in mid-air whenever he could, until he'd mastered the ability to the point where he would zip around Alistair in circles, giggling like a madman.

Alistair would dissolve in giggles as well, leaping gracefully up into the air to join him.

As he learned more about his powers, he began to understand how much he was now capable of, how he might be able to _use_ these powers in the future to achieve his goals.

Goals he'd immediately begun to envision the moment the full realization of his new reality became clear.

_I have_ power _, I am like a god to those in Flatland. More of a god than any the Circles preached about. And like a god, I can exact_ divine retribution _for the crimes of the Circles._ Especially _Vyraius Cerchio._

_I_ am _BILL CIPHER. And Bill Cipher does not_ forgive _. He does not_ forget _._

***

_Alistair's Domain, Study_

The gift Alistair gave him was, he said, his belated birthday gift.

Bill couldn't have imagined any gift better than the ones Alistair had already given him.

"It's a, ah, 'copy', I suppose, of th' gift I'd wanted t'give you then," Alistair said one evening as they snuggled in front of a wonderfully three-dimensional fireplace full of multicolored flames in all shades of yellow and orange. Bill curled against Alistair, running his fingers over the Rhomboid's smooth lavender Shape.

"I don't need any more gifts, Lister," Bill purred, looking up at him.

"I _want_ to give this to you. I know y' could conjure them on yer own now but still..."

He reached over and gave Bill a box, complete with _yellow_ wrapping paper and a _gold_ ribbon, a proper present.

Bill chuckled and sat up to open his gift. He ripped through the paper and opened the box.

Inside were two items. A tall, handsome black silk top hat with a gold ribbon around the crown and a beautiful, matching black silk bow tie.

"Alistair!"

"I know it seems kinda insignificant compared to what y' are now--"

"No! No! They're _perfect_ , Alistair!"

"In Flatland, I'd saved for months to get the ones I'd gotten you, of course it would have been easier to magic them up but I'd wanted them t' be _special_. I wish that I'd been able t' give them--"

"Alistair, shut up!" Bill said, flinging himself at the Rhomboid and hugging him tightly. "They're wonderful. And I would have loved them just as much!"

Alistair laughed softly, hugging him back.

"There's one more thing. I couldn't wrap it before, so I decided t' give it t' you th' way I would have done."

Bill let him go, only so he could retrieve the last gift.

It was a hand-polished black wood crook-necked cane. Bill's eye went wide as he took it from him. He could tell how finely crafted it was from the moment he touched the wood. It was buttery smooth, finely sanded and finished to a glass-like shine.

"Th' cane was th' hardest t' get," Alistair said, "I wanted t'get y'somethin' that was handmade, like th' ones the Circles had. I wanted y'to look like the proper gentleman you were."

When he flushed now, his Shape turned a rosy color called 'pink', which Bill thought was a very cute shade for shy embarrassment, especially for Alistair.

"Alistair," Bill said softly, "I don't deserve you."

Alistair's eye smiled back at him.

"Um... can I show you something?"

"Sure. What?"

Alistair took a deep breath. "Well, d'you want t' see what I _really_ look like? I-I mean, my normal form? I-I don't think yer ready f'my demon form yet."

Bill's curiosity perked up.

"Why do you say that? Sure, I'm ready!"

"Well, only because my normal form might be alarming enough for you since you've never seen anythin' like it before."

"Show me both!" Bill said, eye wide, brimming with excitement. He set the top hat on his apex and fastened the bow tie and his eye grinned. "I'm ready for anything!"

Alistair took another deep breath, nervously.

"Okay... well, then, this is my _real_ form..."

Stepping back, his eye closed and his Shape shimmered into the same kind of misty glittering that he'd taken before. As the mist coalesced, it reformed into a taller, strange figure that resembled a very slender, shapely Line, with longer arms and legs and a sort of oval shape atop it. As the new form solidified in front of Bill, his eye went very wide and he stumbled back a few paces.

The figure's oval had _two_ smaller bright magenta eyes, as well as other shapes on it that didn't make any sense to Bill. It was dressed in a long jacket, which was over something that _might_ be other, strange forms of clothing and wore a thick mass of silver-white fibers atop the oval at its apex. At least it had arms and legs and the body part which he first thought looked like a Line was a bit curved in places, which he noticed more as it turned around to give him a complete view of its new form.

"Oh, I was afraid of that," it said. Part of the oval moved as it spoke which only startled Bill more.

"WHAT??"

"Bill, it's still me. I'm what you would call 'humanoid'. This form. It is called 'humanoid'." He indicated the oval. "This is my face. This is my nose and this is my mouth. Humanoid forms have separate mouths from their eyes. They still work the same way, for the most part. We can kiss and eat and drink... It's okay, Bill."

Bill stared, aghast.

He'd expected to think this figure was hideous. He'd been prepared to comfort Alistair if it was.

But the more he looked at it, the more sense it made to him. It was actually rather symmetric and kind of nice. He particularly was drawn to the long strands of fiber that was on top of Alistair's 'humanoid' form.

Slowly, he drifted towards Alistair, pushing up into the air to touch it.

"This is called hair," Alistair said, laughing softly as Bill ran his fingers through it. "And it's on my head, what you call your apex."

Alistair reached up to trail his humanoid fingers over Bill's side, gently, sending heated tingles through him.

He glanced at Alistair. "So..." he said quietly, "what does your demon form look like?"

"Much more frightening than this."

"Hmm... well. Maybe I should just get used to 'humanoid' first."

Alistair chuckled. "That's fine." He leaned towards Bill with his humanoid head and pressed a kiss to Bill's Shape with his 'lips'.

Bill 'mmm'd' softly.

"I have another question."

"Yes?"

"What's sex like as a humanoid?"

Alistair's pale skin flushed pink. "Um... well. Very nice. Different. I'm just not sure we're compatible this way."

"I'm nothing if not _adventurous_ ," Bill purred back, eye curving in a grin, trailing his fingers down Alistair's cheek, " _Show me_."

***

Humanoids _were_ interesting. 

Bill glanced over at Alistair, now asleep, wrapped in a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace. He was still in his humanoid form, unclothed and exhausted.

Bill chuckled softly. Well, perhaps he'd have to figure out how to shift into a humanoid form occasionally, since Alistair certainly seemed to _enjoy_ it.

He wasn't kidding when he told Alistair he was adventurous. Between them, they'd figured out ways to make things fun and satisfying for both of them. Of course, being what he was, even with the limited experience Bill had, he'd been able to figure out some interesting ways to accommodate Alistair. And Alistair, well, he already _knew_ how to make Bill happy.

He snuggled up to Alistair, kissed his cheek and settled in to sleep.

_You've learned something important here, Bill,_ Bill Cipher's voice whispered in his mind, _How to use_ desire _as a tool to achieve your goals. Everyone has some kind of desire that can be manipulated. Sure, you'd never use it on Alistair but you can use it on others. Remember how Cerchio tried to use it on you. He did it wrong. But you can do it_ right _. Against humanoids especially. They're_ weaker _that you in many ways. Study humanoids. Learn everything about how they work, how to use their strange bodies against them._

_Let Alistair teach you, even if he doesn't realize he's doing it._

He sighed. Of course, _Bill Cipher_ would know even before William Sifras did, how to use something as pleasant as sensuality as a weapon.

Well, he'd let Bill Cipher think about it. William Sifras was just happy to have something else he could share with his beloved Alistair. 

He _was_ happy. Deliriously happy. He'd never _dreamed_ life could ever be like this. He never wanted it to end. And now that he was _immortal_ , it never _would_.

Or so he thought.

***

"Bill, we have an appointment," Alistair said.

"An appointment?"

"With the Atae. You've been summoned to attend them. I've been putting it off, because I wanted t' make sure you were _ready_ but they're _insisting_ on it _now_."

'Now'. Bill winced. Every time someone said 'now' it never turned out good.

He looked over at Alistair, who was in his Flatland form today.

The Rhomboid looked pensive, mildly upset.

"I'm ready," Bill said firmly. "Trust me, Alistair, I can handle it."

Alistair glanced at him and sighed. "I hope so, because we don't really have a choice." He looked away, into the fireplace. They'd spent much of their time in the study, reading, learning, cuddling...

"Alistair, what's going on here?" Bill said, sitting next to him. "You haven't told me everything, have you?"

"Not exactly," Alistair said. "I'm... well, Bill... I'm kind of... in trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Yes," Alistair said, "I was only supposed to befriend you, collect you. Not... uh... not lead a rebellion. Not sacrifice myself for the cause." He looked down. "Not fall in love. _Especially_ not fall in love."

"It's okay, Alistair," Bill said softly. "Things happen. People fall in love, it's natural."

"Not for us it isn't."

Bill's eye frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Demons aren't _allowed_ to fall in love. Replicate love, sure, if it helps us collect those we're supposed to recruit but not _really_ fall in love. It's not that we _can't_ love, we can love our own kind. But we're not allowed to fall in love with the marks."

"'Marks'? I don't like the sound of that."

"We're Hunter Demons, Bill. We're supposed to hunt, recruit and collect those mortals we're assigned to. If we have to _pretend_ love, we do. We do whatever it takes to recruit our assigned target." He sighed. "Our 'marks'. I 'went native', as they say. I wasn't supposed to. Everything I did was designed to recruit you. I just... fell in love. Not only with you, Bill. With Cyran, with the people. With _Flatland_. I _wanted_ to help, to do whatever I could to _save_ it. I-I didn't succeed."

"You saved me."

Alistair looked at him. "Bill, don't you understand? I _lied_ to you. About _everything_. I didn't _want_ to."

"Everything?" A slight chill crept through him.

"Ah, well, _almost_ everything. I didn't lie about wanting to help. I didn't lie about loving you. I-I _did_ lie about some important things. About my father. About where I came from. Who I was."

"I know that-- wait... What about your father?"

"Varien Kendrick wasn't a Flatlander. He was... well, _me_. Sort of. He's what we call a 'construct'. I _created_ him so to speak. I guess one might say he was an automaton, only with a sentience of a sort. I programmed him and he carried out his programming... _extremely_ well, actually. He was the father I never had. I-I _loved_ him and I think he _really_ loved me. He'd taken on a life of his own... nearly. When I was ill-- and I _was_ , Bill, I _swear--_ when I was ill, he had trouble doing much of anything beyond keeping himself functional. I couldn't help him much then."

Bill _stared_ at him. What he was saying was incredible, impossible to believe.

_Except_ for the very fact of Bill's _current_ existence. 

"So, when Cerchio bombed your house--"

"It killed Risa," Alistair whispered. "Varien was... destroyed."

Bill just continued to stare.

"I'm sorry, Bill."

"If you hadn't been there, would things have gone the same way?"

"Yes. My influence changed very little. The revolution... I-if it hadn't been me, it would have been another like me. Your life was destined to go the way it did, down to your execution."

"What about a lover? Was I supposed to have one?"

"I don't know. I was not told, thus They must not have thought it important."

"Who are They?"

"The Atae. The Empress and her minions. The Gods of the Multiverse, Bill."

"'Minions' is not exactly a flattering term for servants of the Gods."

"The Atae are not like any Gods you might have knowledge of. Contrary to what many mortal and immortal religions teach, the true Gods of the Multiverse are not paragons of perfection and goodness, just as we Demons are not completely evil creatures."

"But we _are_ evil."

"Only as evil as mortals might be. Some are more so some are less. Just as the Atae. The only true 'anything' is the True Neutral. It is the only being that _truly_ understands kindness and depravity."

"I want to meet it."

"Maybe someday, Bill. Unfortunately, The Empress has summoned us and we _must_ attend Her."

"I don't like the sound of this Empress already."

Bill turned away. With how upset this entire thing was making Alistair, Bill realized that confronting him over his deceit and trickery would be very bad timing. Obviously Alistair was feeling guilty and horrible and Bill didn't want to make it worse. No matter what Alistair had done, Bill loved him. He always would.

Besides, it sounded like this Empress and her Atae were more of a problem.

"Most people hate their bosses," Alistair said with a soft grunt, "We're no different."

"So I left one demented crazy to work for another demented crazy."

"Don't let Her hear you say that."

Bill looked at Alistair. "Y-you don't think They'll split us up, do you?"

Alistair's eye smiled a very little bit. "They _can't_. You're _my_ apprentice. We're _bound_ to each other. Even They can't break our deal. It's my job to teach you, to help you grow into your power, to show you how Hunter Demons work. We're bound until _we_ both mutually agree to break our bond. From now until the end of time, if we want."

Bill smiled a bit back.

_From now until the end of time._

That sounded perfect.


	20. The Queen's Pawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Alistair meet the Empress as well as someone else.

_Demesne of the Atae, Ziggurat of the Empress_

Bill floated alongside Alistair, who was in a humanoid form that he called his 'demon form'. Bill was used to this by now, all of the strange and varied forms the demon could take were fascinating, sometimes horrifying and all infinitely wonderful to him. 

Alistair was tall next to Bill's yellow Triangular figure, taller than his normal humanoid form.

He was still humanoid but even _more_ so, if there was such a thing. He was a study in terrifying elegance and monochrome beauty. Alistair was icy colored, pale lavender and white, clad in a form-fitting white and black-trimmed long velvet cloak-like jacket, encrusted with black, silver and lavender jewel-work and silver embroidery; silver and lavender pants and a silver embroidered vest over an icy lavender shirt with a long, skinny black tie. His hair was silvery, chased with violet, silver and magenta streaks, falling over his shoulders in lazy curls, his skin pale pearlescent silver white and his usually gorgeous magenta eyes were large, all black with glittering magenta irises and a black slitted pupil. His hands were elongated, ending in black claw-tipped nails, his ears sharply pointed, his silver teeth sharp and vicious looking.

He was, to Bill, gorgeous. Terrifying yes, but _gorgeous_.

Bill, at this point, didn't have a demon form, or if he did, he hadn't discovered it yet. So he was dressed as formally as he was able, wearing his beloved black silk hat, his tie and he carried his new cane. Even though he was small and simpler compared to Alistair, he was confident, _supremely_ confident and carried himself like a gentleman.

He _was_ Bill Cipher today, demon, immortal, _powerful_.

They approached the shifting center of the dark, circular space they'd been summoned into, a weird churning of color and darkness that Bill understood was the Empress' audience chamber.

A voice boomed out, echoing around them.

"BILL CIPHER, YOU STAND BEFORE YOUR EMPRESS."

Bill didn't move, he didn't make a sound, something inside him told him that any kind of reaction could be considered a show of weakness. The last thing he wanted was to show weakness in front of the being Alistair said was the literal Goddess of the Multiverse.

"Well, I _would_ be, if I could _see_ her," he said with a shrug. 

"IMPUDENCE DOES NOT BECOME YOU."

"I'm a _demon_ , right? If demons aren't impudent by nature then I'm sure I don't know what _is_."

Alistair glanced at him but otherwise showed no reaction.

Silence filled the chamber.

Then a low, feminine laughter swirled around them.

"I LIKE YOU, BILL CIPHER. IT'S RARE THAT I ENCOUNTER A WIT TO MATCH MY OWN."

Bill twirled his cane and chuckled. "Show me a bit more of your wit and we'll see."

"ALISTAIR DOES NOT LIKE YOU BEING SO FAMILIAR WITH ME, LITTLE TRIANGLE. AH WELL, OUR ALISTAIR IS A BIT OF A, HOW WOULD ONE SAY, 'FUDDY DUDDY'." She chuckled again.

Bill _felt_ Alistair stiffen next to him.

"I like him. I think he's rather enchanting, myself, Your Majesty."

"YOU DON'T NEED TO CALL ME SUCH A TITLE, BILL. I AM NOT YOUR CHIEF CIRCLE, I DO NOT _NEED_ TO BE CONSTANTLY REMINDED OF MY DIVINITY."

"Okay, Empress. I want to know why I've been summoned."

"WHY, TO MEET YOU. AS MY NEWEST MINION, I WISHED TO SEE WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING SO LONG TO ACQUIRE. SO FAR, I'M NOT DISAPPOINTED. I THINK YOU'LL DO QUITE NICELY. YOU'RE CLEVER, INTELLIGENT, CONFIDENT. A BIT FULL OF YOUR OWN IMPORTANCE, BUT THAT CAN BE FORGIVEN IN A HUNTER DEMON. YOU DID WELL, ALISTAIR."

Alistair relaxed just slightly.

"As you say, Empress. Thank you."

"THIS DOESN'T MEAN YOU WILL NOT BE DISCIPLINED FOR YOUR TRANSGRESSIONS, HOWEVER."

"Why?" Bill said, floating forward, closer to the center of the chamber. "Why should he be punished? He did what he was sent to do, right? He recruited me. He did what he had to do, to do it."

"HE INTERFERED." 

"But he _didn't_. Anything he did could have been done by me or anyone else in the resistance. _I_ am CIPHER," he said firmly, "Not Alistair."

Another deep, echoing silence fell within the chamber.

"TRUE."

"The only reason I _didn't_ lead that rescue mission was because he told me not to. Because the group said I was too important as the Leader of the resistance. And after thinking about it, I realized they were right. I would have said the same thing. If _Alistair_ hadn't been there, someone else would have lead the mission." He sighed. "And that man would have been caught. Maybe even sooner than Alistair was. He would have said he was Cipher to protect me. He would have been executed. Just as Alistair was. It just would have been Daniel or even Nancy." He looked up, around, wishing he could _see_ the woman he was speaking to.

He twirled the cane thoughtfully. 

"Empress, I contend that Alistair did what he had to do to fulfill his mission. Love is just something that happens to mortal beings and I know that you consider his love for me as one of his 'transgressions'. Alistair throws himself into his assignments. It's why he's so good at it. Why you sent _him_ in the first place." He stared down the coalescing silvery light that was the Empress' presence. " _You_ say he made a mistake. _You_ say he screwed up. _I_ don't think so. I'm the subject in question, right? His dedication to me has _already_ made me one of the best damn demons you have. And I will continue to get better at my job. You will see, Empress. You won't regret giving Alistair a break in this case."

"YOU ASSUME MUCH FOR BEING AS NEW TO IMMORTALITY AS YOU ARE, BILL CIPHER."

He laughed, strong and loud. "Yeah, I sure as hell do! See, _I_ know something _you_ don't. I already _know_ I'm _the best_. You just wait, Lady, I'll _prove_ it."

The chamber went dark and in front of him, there was a blinding burst of white light. It quickly took the form of a gigantic white _object_ , vaguely shaped like a humanoid female, if the woman was an angular, abstract statue made of white marble. Where the figure's face would have been was only a Rhomboid shaped black surface, featureless except for two white diamond shaped 'eyes'.

These fixed on Bill.

"YOU ARE EXTREMELY SELF-CONFIDENT AND INCREDIBLY ARROGANT FOR SUCH A SMALL CREATURE, CIPHER."

"I may be small, Lady but I'm powerful," Bill said in that same strong, loud voice.

"YOU _ARE_ POWERFUL AND INTELLIGENT, BILL. I LOOK FORWARD TO WATCHING YOU _PROVE_ IT."

Bill gazed back up at Her, unflinching. Inwardly he was struggling with a strange kind of anxiety he'd never experienced before. He knew everything he said was true and the knowledge was staggering. As before, when 'Bill Cipher' spoke to him and the certainty was uncannily clear, _now_ everything he said to the Empress was just as clear and true. 'Bill Cipher' _was_ William Sifras now. One and the same.

"BILL CIPHER," the Empress said, "I HAVE HEARD AND RECOGNIZE YOUR PLEA REGARDING YOUR COMPANION, THE HUNTER ALISTAIR KENDRICK. HE MUST BE DISCIPLINED BUT IN DEFERENCE TO YOUR ELOQUENT WITNESS ON HIS BEHALF, I WILL REDUCE HIS PUNISHMENT."

Bill glanced back at Alistair, who still stood quietly, face impassive but Bill _knew_ he was troubled.

"AS YOUR MENTOR, HE _MUST_ INSTRUCT YOU. HOWEVER, ONCE YOUR INSTRUCTION IS COMPLETE, HE WILL BECOME _YOUR_ SUBORDINATE. YOU WILL BE _HIS_ MASTER. IN ANY FURTHER MISSIONS, _YOU_ WILL BE OUR PRIMARY AGENT UNTIL I DETERMINE HIS PUNISHMENT IS SUFFICIENT. IT WILL THEN BE _YOUR_ CHOICE TO DISCARD HIM OR KEEP HIM AS YOUR COMPANION."

"I will never discard Alistair," Bill stated firmly. "We're _bound._ "

"YES, YOU ARE. THIS IS WHY _YOU_ MUST CHOOSE WHEN THE TIME COMES."

"I see."

"ALISTAIR KENDRICK, DO YOU ACCEPT THESE CONDITIONS OF YOUR PUNISHMENT?"

"I do, Empress. Bill and I only wish to stay together."

"YOU SAY THAT NOW. I WONDER, IN THE FAR FUTURE, IF YOU WILL FEEL THE SAME."

Bill's eye frowned a little. "I can never imagine--"

"THE FUTURE IS FLUID AND CHAOTIC, YOUNG CIPHER. EVEN _I_ CANNOT SEE EVERYTHING. I DO, HOWEVER SEE _COMPLICATIONS_ IN YOUR FUTURE. COMPLICATIONS THAT MIGHT SHATTER YOUR IDYLLIC LITTLE PARTNERSHIP... THOUGH WHAT THEY MIGHT BE, I DO NOT KNOW."

"Complications?"

Bill couldn't imagine _anything_ that might interfere between him and Alistair. If the Empress of the Atae couldn't break the two of them up, _nothing_ ever would.

"THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT TO ME," She said, "I ONLY CARE THAT YOU PERFORM THE DUTIES FOR WHICH YOU HAVE BEEN RECRUITED, BILL CIPHER. THAT YOU WILL DO ADMIRABLY, MAKE NO MISTAKE. THAT SAID, I REALLY HAVE NO INTEREST IN WHAT YOU DO THE REST OF THE TIME."

"Yes, Empress." Both he and Alistair said it at the same time. Bill reeled as he floated back to Alistair's side and the world changed to spinning, turbulent chaos around them. She actually _liked_ him! She liked him... _better._

Better than Alistair.

_That_ reverberated through Bill's being as they translocated home. The Empress of the Atae liked him _better_ than Alistair.

Somehow, that didn't make Bill very happy.

In fact, it _terrified_ him.

***

_Alistair's Domain_

"It's okay, Alistair," Bill was saying, hugging him as much as he could while Alistair was in his humanoid form. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that we are _together_ and we've even been given the okay to be! So what if I'm your subordinate or you're mine, it doesn't matter. I'm _never_ gonna treat you like a lesser partner and you won't do it to me either. It doesn't _matter_! I don't care! I'll be your servant if you want me to be!"

"I _don't_ , Bill," Alistair said softly. "A-an' yer right, I know y' are. Jus'... I-I didn't _expect_ Her t-t' be so... so... _forgivin'_ of yer arrogance. I expected her t' _yell_ at y', jus' like She always does t' _me._ "

"She does?" Bill tilted his apex. "Alistair, you never told me--"

"I know. It's not somethin' I like t' talk about. I really don't think She's ever liked me. You've seen me work, you know that I'm _good_ , one of th' best at my job. It's the only reason She still keeps me around. I've recruited an' trained the best damn Hunters in Her arsenal. She doesn't like my methods but She can't fault th' results." He sighed.

"Alistair?"

"Yes, Bill?"

"Have you... uh, 'gone native' with other missions? I-I mean, a-am I jus' the _latest_ of your conquests--?"

Alistair blinked and looked at him, startled. Pain flashed over his face and he shook his head. "Please don't say 'conquests', Bill. I-I've gotten involved in other mortal realms, yes. I've fallen in love with the worlds of other dimensions, yes. But what happened with you and Cyran? Flatland? Never. P-please believe that. I've never fallen in love with a mortal before. _Ever_. Not like I have with you. Not romantically. I care about almost all of the people I've recruited. I consider them dear friends and colleagues. But falling in _love_? No. I haven't ever loved anyone. Until you."

"Almost all?"

"Well, there are a _few_ I've recruited that didn't work out. It's inevitable. My losses are still remarkably low, compared to other Hunters."

Bill considered him quietly for a long moment. Alistair was telling the truth. Every fiber of his being knew it. Even 'Bill Cipher' agreed. Alistair was being painfully honest.

"Well," Bill purred, eye curving in a grin. "Until me, Lister, old buddy, not until _me_ , pal!" He chuckled heartily. "I'm gonna give you a run for yer money. Are ya ready for me?"

Alistair blinked both of those beautiful eyes, then he smiled brightly back. "You know, nobody else has ever said tha' t' me before. Not one of my previous recruits." He extended a hand, which erupted in his signature magenta, violet and ice lavender flames. "Yer on, Bill Cipher."

Bill clasped Alistair's hand heartily. "It's a _deal_ , Alistair Kendrick!"

" _I'm_ ready for you, Bill," Alistair purred, using that grip to pull Bill close and kiss him.

***

_Alistair and Bill's Domain_

Bill learned quickly, building his abilities and powers with the same skill and cleverness that he used to devour any and all knowledge he could as a boy. He was learning even quicker than he ever did as a child, though. 

Alistair was the best teacher. Bill had never had any instructor who was as intelligent and informed as Alistair was. He was just as clever as Bill and extremely knowledgeable, he could answer even the most esoteric questions and was able to quickly improve upon every skill Bill learned.

By the time they were given Bill's first assignment, he was feeling confident and very comfortable in his abilities.

It went well. 

Each successive mission they got, Bill became more and more self-assured. Each mission went better than the one before it and by the time Bill had been Hunting with Alistair for what seemed like a year or maybe longer, Bill was no longer Alistair's apprentice, he was the lead Hunter.

Bill had no idea how much time had _really_ passed. It didn't occur to him to check. 

The Empress doted on her new agent, to the point where Bill jokingly suggested she might be sweet on him.

This horrified Alistair, so Bill never mentioned it again.

The Atae on the whole were quite pleased with Bill and by association, Alistair, which improved his reputation amongst the strange, sculpture-like beings the Empress ruled. Alistair relaxed quite a bit and Bill felt like he was finally seeing a bit of the old Alistair he once knew, before the revolution and war changed him.

Alistair was truly in love with the Multiverse. Every dimension they visited, every unusual people they met, Alistair met them with wonder and appreciation. Bill loved to see Alistair's fascination and pleasure with every new place they got to go. His enthusiasm was infectious, Bill wondered at the Multiverse himself but experiencing it through Alistair was even more enjoyable.

They'd made friends, found pleasure and passion and discovered worlds beyond imagining.

It was a heady, exciting time for both of them.

One world they discovered was a beautiful place called 'Diranda'. It was full of humanoids with large, gemstone-like eyes, people who were as passionate and strong-willed as Bill himself and Diranda was the first world Bill got to try out his humanoid form, a shift he'd been working on privately for quite a while. Alistair's native humanoid form, it turned out, was modeled on the Dirandan type, which only made Bill love the place that much more.

Diranda was the site of their first failure.

Their mission was a considerable one. They were dispatched to recruit a young Dirandan man with dark, curling black hair and emerald green eyes. His name was Gaston VonTesmar. He had great potential, the Empress said. Almost as great as Bill's own. He was destined to become a substantially powerful Agent. She'd indicated that Her plans for this man were higher than Hunting and it was imperative that they bring him to Her.

What She didn't tell them was that Gaston was not a simple mortal. He was a Prince of Diranda, the youngest son of the Director and High King of the Directorate, a worlds spanning dictatorship that held significant power in their dimension, The Fifth Quadrant. Not only that, but the young man was First Master, Keeper Nominate; one of the most powerful psionic Masters of his people. He was not an easy target, powerful in his own right and certainly not interested in any kind of deal for more power either Alistair or Bill could offer him.

He didn't _want_ any more power.

The power he had was more than enough.

That was the first time, talking to Gaston, that Bill realized too much power could be just as bad as too little.

He was a kind soul, deep down. Tortured by his love of his world and his people, by his hatred of his despot of a father, who reminded Bill strongly of Cerchio and by his love of a person who, by all rights, he should despise.

He forced himself to portray a villain, even when he didn't want to, simply because that was what was expected of him, by this woman he loved more than Bill had ever seen anyone love. Well, except Alistair. He was frustrated, afraid of the future but determined to change his world for the better, no matter _what_ he had to do.

The young man was wiser than Bill, stronger than Alistair and more determined than anyone either of them had ever met.

He didn't understand Gaston. He liked him but he didn't _understand_ him.

Bill made the executive decision to withdraw from Diranda. Alistair agreed.

They knew they'd be disciplined for their failure but they knew there was no way Gaston would come with them.

They left the planet and returned to their domain, both expecting to be summoned to the presence of the Empress to account for their actions.

***

_The Empress' Demesne_

"YOU FAILED."

"Yes, Empress, we did," Alistair said.

"BILL CIPHER, EXPLAIN!"

"Gaston VonTesmar does not wish to gain more power. He does not wish to leave his world, nor does he wish to change his destiny. He is dedicated to his people. I believe that there is no power in this Multiverse that will change his mind and I refuse to take him by force. That's not what we do. We cannot take him that way in any case. You know this as well as I."

Silence.

"THE RULES OF HUNTING ARE FINITE, YES. TAKING ONE BY FORCE IS ALLOWED UNDER CERTAIN CIRCUMSTANCES. I DECREE THIS TO BE ONE OF THOSE TIMES. YOU WILL RETURN TO DIRANDA AND RETRIEVE THE MAN."

Bill glanced at Alistair, then back at the shimmering Presence of the Empress.

"No."

"YOU DARE TO REFUSE AN ORDER?"

"I do. Our rules are clear on this matter. Only a deal may be struck. He refused the deal. We will not take him."

"We will suffer if we break our own rules, Empress," Alistair said. "Bill knows this. You know this. The Atae will not allow--"

"I _AM_ THE ATAE!"

_You are the Empress... you are_ not _the Atae._

Bill startled as did Alistair. The strange voice echoed around them and _within_ them. Even the Empress seemed alarmed as Her shimmering suddenly coalesced into Her physical form: the female-shaped sculpture of white marble.

"YOU! LEAVE MY DEMESNE!"

_No. I may go where I wish._

_I wish to go here._

_You are overstepping your bounds yet again. It is my job to call you on it. Doing this thing not only harms your Agents but damages the delicate fabric of the Multiverse._

_You_ knew _the one called Gaston would refuse to leave his world, yet you sent these creatures to retrieve him. You would sacrifice two of your best minions to retrieve the First Master of Diranda because you desire his power for yourself. You were not able to draw March Tramani to you so you fixed your sights on his apprentice. That is an abuse of the highest measure. The Masters of Diranda are keystones in more ways than one and your insatiable desire to grow your own power is gravely troubling. I will take these Agents of yours if you continue to use them for your own selfish ends._

"YOU WILL LEAVE."

_You will not use these Agents for such a task again. Every time you push your boundaries, you court the Great Void, you encourage it to devour more of the Multiverse. You court Entropy as you court your myriad consorts. Insatiably._

"I HAVE NO BOUNDARIES."

Bill looked at Alistair, absently running a hand through his own curly black hair, still in his Dirandan form, almost as an afterthought.

Alistair shook his head.

"The True Neutral," he whispered.

Bill's large yellow eyes went wide.

"So She's _not_ all powerful."

"No," Alistair whispered back. "Be careful, Bill, we're on really thin ice here."

_Your Agents know your weakness, Empress. Return them without retribution._

"IF I DO NOT?"

_I expect the Great Void will have_ words _with you..._ There was a soft, sad chuckle that came from The Presence. _And I'm sure it will not be..._ pleasant.

"I want to speak with you!" Bill cried out. "True Neutral! I want to meet you!"

The Presence chuckled again.

_All in good time, Bill Cipher. All in good time._

In a whirl, Alistair and Bill were whipped through time and space and dumped unceremoniously back into their domain.

_You are safe..._ The Presence whispered. _She will not harm you. Nor will She mention this situation again._

 _However, beware the_ capriciousness _of the Empress..._

 _She will_ not _forget..._


	21. The Master of the Mindscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill grows in power.

Chapter Twenty-One: The Master of the Mindscape

As time went on, Bill grew in power and Alistair became quite content to be his lieutenant. He even confided in Bill that he enjoyed his new position more than he had being the one in charge. He excelled in his position just as Bill did in his. They were the best Hunter team the Atae had in their arsenal and they knew it.

Their mission base widened and the were being dispatched on a variety of non-Hunting tasks, including some very specific types of contact with mortals, including influencing some of the greatest minds of the Multiverse. The first time Bill was dispatched to a planet the inhabitants called Earth, it was to influence some very clever humanoids in a place that would much later be known as Egypt. Bill enjoyed his time there, choosing to contact his targets through their dreams, which the Empress commended greatly. This method was so successful, She decided to employ it on a number of missions. Bill excelled at dream contact. He became so skilled at it, that when the Empress needed mortals influenced through the Mindscape, She always called on Bill.

Eventually, the Empress called for an audience with Bill and Bill alone.

***

_The Empress' Demesne_

~ _Bill Cipher._

He was mildly surprised that She was speaking to him in a much more confidential tone. Up until now, She'd only ever had spoken in a world-shaking voice that would have deafened mortal ears.

"Empress?"

_~I have watched you. I have enjoyed your successes and observed your growth. It has made Me quite happy to see how much you have learned and how quickly you have risen in the ranks of My agents. Even with your failures, you have become one of My favorite minions._

"Empress, I don't like being called a 'minion'. It implies that I'm nothing but a pawn in your chess game. I'd prefer to be considered something a bit more important."

_~Ah?_ Her voice was amused. _~Perhaps you'd like to be My bishop? You_ are _a wild card and you can move further than most any other pieces I command, don't you? How amusing you are, Bill Cipher. Yes, yes, you shall now be the_ Queen's Bishop _. My Bishop, I have called you to My Presence to inform you of a new,_ fun _position I have created for you. I believe you will find it as amusing as I do._

"Fun? I like fun. I'm intrigued, Lady."

_~You should be. My Bishop, I have now promoted you to Master of the Mindscape. You're my Dream Demon..._

"Aww, I'm flattered, my Lady!" Bill chuckled.

_~You little scamp! You understand of course, what this means?_

"Yes, I believe I do. I now command the Mindscape. The Mindscape that touches every mortal and immortal mind in the Multiverse. Though it, I might influence any mark at will, if I am instructed to do so."

_~It is a position of great power and responsibility, my Bishop. You understand this, of course. I do not promote Hunters to such a lofty status. You, Bill Cipher, are no longer a Hunter. As your lieutenant, Alistair is not a Hunter any longer either, unless_ you _wish him to be. You are both free agents... more or less. Alistair still shall be your subordinate until such time as you choose to discard him and as such, any mistakes he makes you will still be held responsible for. You are now under My command and Mine only. So unless you're performing a mission for Me, you are free to use your new power for whatever you choose. You are free to pick and choose your assignments from other Atae. Should you be approached with a mission by Them, you may elect not to perform it. You're the Queen's Bishop, Bill Cipher, Master of the Mindscape._

"My Lady," Bill said, eye widening as She spoke. "I-I'm honored. Deeply honored."

She chuckled. _~You should be, little Triangle. I expect to see great things from you from now on, my Bishop._

"Oh you will," Bill chuckled softly, "Believe me, my Queen, you most certainly will."

***

Bill had not been idle.

Time may have passed significantly for him but for Flatland, very little had gone by.

As he matured and grew in power, he'd learned many, many things about the Multiverse. He had not only learned how humanoids worked, not only how to shift into any number of humanoid type beings as well as many others, he learned many of the secrets and truths of the universes that made up the Multiverse he called his own. And as he learned, he eventually came to the inevitable conclusion that the grand scheme of the myriad Multiverses that in fact, comprised an entity that he called the Ultraverse, was much deeper, much more involved and much, much _weirder_ than _anyone_ , perhaps _especially_ the Atae Themselves, gave it credit for.

Bill was in a continual state of learning. He was learning so much more than he'd ever learned when he was a mortal in the libraries of Flatland, so much more than Alistair, or even the Empress realized.

Flatland was doomed. It had been doomed for years before he'd been born. He suspected even Spherius hadn't been aware of the slowly descending orbit into the Void the tiny little two-dimensional world was locked into. Perhaps that was why its society was slowly disintegrating, _that_ he wasn't sure of.

He'd been watching it since he'd become immortal. When he realized how slow time was moving there compared to everywhere else, he began to look into _why_. 

Flatland had been caught in the grip of the Great Void and like the classical concept of a black hole, it was trapped, eventually it would be pulled into the Void, strand by strand, until it was completely disintegrated. 

As he observed it, he watched the society break up as well. Each time he looked into it, it made his apex ache and his heart hurt. Even with as transcendent as he now was, learning of the deaths of people he loved and respected was devastating.

Through it all, Cerchio was victorious and Bill suspected, losing his mind.

Flatland was on a crash course into oblivion.

***

_William Sifras, you come to me with questions. I only hope I may have the answers you seek._

Bill floated in his Dreamscape, asleep in his own chambers within the Citadel he and Alistair had created in their own Shadow.

"I do... I need to know... The fate of the--"

_\--the world of your birth... it will not die the way you believe it will... how I cannot tell you..._

"Either you don't know or you won't tell me."

_You are one of the most intelligent creatures the Empress has in her employ._

Around him, the energy of the True Neutral swirled and took on a variety of forms, apparently electing to settle on an Equilateral Triangle, a twin of Bill, only a soft, gentle being of blue. Bill liked this form the most as he felt as though he were talking to someone who could relate to him.

"You say that a lot," Bill said with a sigh. "I wonder if you're trying to tell me something other than how smart I am."

_It's possible. You don't care to be a minion, no matter how She might phrase it. You are more than what She believes you to be, than what you, yourself, believe you to be._

"I expect that's true," Bill said with a sigh. "I don't want to work for Her, you got that right. She's... uh..."

_You are safe here. You may 'feel free' to say all you wish, though I know what you will say._

"She's bad. Evil. I mean, not 'me' evil. _Really_ evil. Nobody should have Her as a God of any kind. I'm right, aren't I?"

_You understand your own evil, Bill Cipher?_

"Yes. I know I'm evil. I may not have actually _performed_ all the evil acts I am capable of, yet, but I know I am. A sane, good person couldn't have created the plans I have."

_You can stop your plans, Bill._

"You know I won't. You know _why_ I won't."

The Presence sighed. _I do. But it can't hurt to ask again, can it?_

"I'm insane and evil, yes. I'm _not_ the Empress. Why hasn't anyone tried to _stop_ her? I mean, I know why _you_ can't and I respect that. But why hasn't _someone_ else? Someone with _power_?"

_William, there are few with_ that _kind of power. I also do not believe you are_ truly _evil, William. Nor do I believe you are insane._

"Sane men don't have arguments with themselves in their mind."

_They do._

It was silent for a while. It reached out to gently touch Bill's apex.

_You_ always _have a choice in your actions. You have a_ choice _. Remember that. Your actions will have consequences._

"I'm prepared for the consequences."

_I wonder if you are._

***

"Bill, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Lister."

Bill looked up at Alistair, who sat down on the bed next to him. "I liked him too, even though I never met him _directly_."

"Cerchio is mad."

"He is."

Bill leaned heavily against Alistair's side. "I never wanted Tveir to--"

"It was inevitable, given th' way things were goin'."

Bill took a deep breath. "Yeah... there's nobody left. For real now."

"Then I guess it will be easier f' you to go back, won't it?"

Bill stiffened, then looked at Alistair. "Yes... how--?"

"I think I know you well enough by now, Bill," Alistair said softly. "I knew there would be no closure f' you until y' finished what y' set out to do."

"Then you know what I will do next."

"I do. I want t' go with you."

Bill frowned with his eye. "Alistair, no. I have to do this on my own."

"I won't get in th' way."

"You're _never_ in the way, Alistair. That's not what I mean. I-I can't do this if I know you're there. I need to be able to do it without reservation. And--" he got up, turning his back on Alistair a moment. "I don't want you to see me that way."

"You've seen me in my element," Alistair said, reaching out towards Bill. "As a demon, even in a fury--"

"I know," Bill said. "But... _Bill Cipher_... I don't want you to see me like that."

"I don't care, Bill. William Sifras or Bill Cipher, I don't care. Avenging angel or vengeful demon, I will love y' no matter what."

Bill looked over at him. "You're serious."

"I am."

He took a deep breath. He gazed into Alistair's eye. He was torn. He very badly wanted Alistair by his side when he returned as he'd known he must. Though, when he returned to Flatland, Bill knew he would very much be the vengeful demon and he didn't want Alistair to see that. Even Bill wasn't sure what kind of thing he'd become. He wasn't even sure he'd survive the experience.

"We may die. We may be consumed by the Void. We may be _disciplined_."

"I don't care. I'm w' you until th' end of time, whenever or however tha' may come."

Bill's heart wrenched. "Alistair--"

"Shh. I don't want t' hear any more arguments. It's alright, Bill. No matter what, I'm here for _you_."

***

Flatland was gray.

Gray and white and black. Colorless. In more ways than one.

He'd never realized how _gray_ it had been, his entire life. Before he knew color, all he knew was monochrome, shades of gray and black and white. How wonderful it would have been with color. If the trees were _green_ , the rivers blue, the snow shades of blue and white and lavender, if the sunlight (for that was what it was) were gold and _yellow_ and warm.

Yellow. Like he was now. Warm and bright and shining like the stars that he now knew and loved as much as he did the darkness of space and the myriad colors of the Singularity and the velvety blackness of the Void. All colors of the Multiverse Bill knew and loved as dearly as he did Alistair and his now dead parents and friends.

They were all dead now.

All of them.

Tveir Cyclonus had been the last. He'd held out, protecting his people and his Prefecture until the end, when Cerchio came for him as he'd come for Bill years before. He'd underestimated the Prefect, that was certain.

Tveir had, in the end, become the leader Bill could not, could never have been. Tveir was wiser, stronger, better a man than Bill was, a strong leader. A man who'd nearly finished what Bill had begun. He'd come much closer to ensuring Cerchio's death. He'd died fighting.

Literally.

They'd had to kill the Circle before he'd been able to kill Cerchio. He'd done everything that the resistance had hoped Bill could do, before his own madness had overtaken him and he'd thrown everything to the wind to take a chance at ending Cerchio on the spot.

Bill blamed Cipher, the voice in his head that had _become_ what he was now: _Bill Cipher_.

In the beginning, anyway. In the beginning when he was angry, confused, high with his own new power and being, the sane part of his mind, William, blamed Bill Cipher, while the crazy part harbored anger at Alistair for ripping him away and thrusting him into the life of a demon... something Bill doubted he'd ever admit to Alistair. He felt horrible for being so angry at the man he loved, the man who had _literally_ saved him. 

No, he'd never tell Alistair about it.

_Ever_.

William Sifras was dead. He'd died that day on the execution block.

Bill Cipher survived. _He_ was the Master of the Dreamscape, the Empress's Bishop, her _pet_. 

What She didn't know, what the True Neutral suspected and what _Bill_ himself knew, was that he was not content to be _anyone's_ pet. Not Cerchio's, not Hers.

Cipher had plans-- _Bill Cipher_ had plans. And those plans would begin with Flatland.

With finishing what he'd begun.

As he looked out upon Flatland for what he knew would be the last time, hovering above it as Spherius had so long ago, when he'd taken an innocent and wondering Square into the Third Dimension, Bill Cipher let a steely resolve fill his soul--what was left of it--for by now, he was sure, he had very little.

He was evil. He knew that. No sane, good man could have formulated the plans he had. Not formulated them and _stayed_ sane. It was best that Bill Cipher had taken over now. Best that William Sifras was dead. William wouldn't have approved of this. Of _any_ of it.

Vyraius Cerchio was living his last hours at this very moment. Bill watched him with a cold, dark appraisal.

Alistair hovered beside him, silent and stalwart, his constant companion, his beloved lieutenant. He deserved better than this, Bill thought softly. He deserved a life of happiness and love, not death and constant deception.

_He is not suited for this life. Yet he is admirably masterful at it._

"Bill, are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he said. "Just..."

"I know."

Bill flipped his cane, straightened his bowtie and took a deep breath.

Hovering over the Chief Circle's Palace, he manifested in the Circle Council Chamber, before a full Council, shining and massive and blindingly _yellow_ , to a chorus of screams of terror and pain.

"VYRAIUS CERCHIO," Bill's strong, bright tenor voice reverberated deafeningly through the chamber, shaking the walls, "THE TIME HAS COME FOR YOU TO ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES!"


	22. The Return of Cipher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You think those chains are tight?  
> Imagine living in the Second Dimension. Flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams.  
> I liberated my dimension, Stanford, and I'm here to liberate yours.
> 
> ~Bill Cipher, Weirdmageddon 3, Take Back The Falls

Chapter Twenty-Two: Return of Cipher

_Flatland_

"What in the blazing hell of Spherius is that-that _thing_?" Vyraius Cerchio screamed, glaring up with a crazy, watering eye at Bill, "it looks like Sifras!"

"I _WAS_ WILLIAM SIFRAS," Bill thundered, "YOU NOW LOOK UPON **_BILL CIPHER_** , YOUR JUDGE, JURY AND _EXECUTIONER_!"

Alistair hovered nearby, just as large and intimidating, his Shape a blinding ice-lavender, eye cold and filled with loathing. His chilling gaze swept the remaining Council, keeping them in their seats. No one was going anywhere under his watch.

Bill approached Cerchio, floating menacingly before him. He raised his cane and prodded the Chief Circle with it.

"Wh-what?" Cerchio gasped, glaring, hesitatingly backing away from the monstrous Triangle. "How is this possible? You're _dead_ , I had you killed, I _saw_ you die!"

"FUNNY HOW THAT HAPPENED, ISN'T IT? YEAH, YOU HAD ME KILLED, YOU WEAK LITTLE MORON, YOU DIDN'T DO IT YOURSELF. YOUR LOSS. IF YOU HAD, PERHAPS I WOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD."

"What _are_ you?" Cerchio snarled, glaring back at Bill, even though his eye was watering from the assault of color that was Bill. 

Alistair shot Bill a glance, which Bill chose to ignore. Revealing their true nature to a mortal who wasn't a mark was forbidden, Bill knew this as well as Alistair did. Yet...

"A **_DEMON_** , CERCHIO. YOU _DO_ KNOW WHAT THAT IS, RIGHT?" Bill thundered.

Alistair winced. Bill didn't have to see that wince to know his boyfriend didn't approve.

If the Chief Circle could have gone whiter than he already was, he would have. _Now_ he began to tremble.

Bill chuckled darkly.

He floated even closer to the Chief, reached out and seized the Circle in one gigantic hand, wrapping his thin fingers tightly around him.

"GUESS WHAT, CERCHIO," Bill said, pulling Vyraius closer so that only the Chief could hear his next words, "Circles _aren't_ superior, the gods _aren't_ Circles, nor are they 'good' and they care very little for you or the second dimension..." His eye smiled darkly, "your world is on a death spiral into Oblivion, which _you_ helped along with your oppression and destruction of anyone who might have been able to change things. You're going to _die_. Flatland is going to _die_. And now, thanks to you, there's nothing you or _anyone_ can do about it."

"Wh-what?" Vyraius managed, voice shaking. 

"Your suppression of the _Truth_ of the Third Dimension doomed not only you but _everyone_ in this dimension to a slow, excruciating death... even now, Flatland is being torn apart by the Great Void... so you have a choice."

"A choice? What kind of choice?"

"Let the Void rip what remains of your dimension to shreds, or witness the _liberation_ of your world."

Vyraius stared at him a long moment, shaking even harder. "I-I don't want to die," he babbled finally. "Sifras... _William_... please... I don't want to die. I'll give you _anything_ , money, power--my _throne_ , please!"

"HEH, YOU REALLY THINK YOU HAVE ANYTHING I'D WANT? YOU THINK YOU _EVER_ HAD ANYTHING I WANTED, CERCHIO?" Bill thundered in the Circle's eye, as Vyraius shuddered and trembled even more. "NO. YOUR ONLY CHOICE IS LIBERATION OR THE VOID."

"Liberation, I-I choose liberation!" Vyraius cried, " _Please_ , Sifras, _save_ me--I-I mean _us_!"

Bill chuckled.

"SOMEHOW I FIGURED THAT'S WHAT YOU'D SAY."

"Bill?"

Bill glanced at Alistair. The remaining Shapes in the chamber were staring at them, cowering in their places, terrified by what they had heard.

"REMEMBER WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD THIS DAY. YOUR CHIEF HAS MADE HIS CHOICE." Bill thundered, turning to glare down at the Shapes below, Vyraius held aloft before them. "I AM THE INSTRUMENT OF DIVINE RETRIBUTION. I WILL _LIBERATE_ THIS DIMENSION AND FREE YOU FROM THE INEVITABLE."

With one gesture, the entire Council chamber went up in blue flames, taking the sniveling loyalsts with it.

Vyrius screamed in terror, though the flames didn't harm him, nor Bill and Alistair.

Bill floated calmly through the remains of the chamber, Alistair trailing behind him, amidst an inferno of Bill's blue fire. As they emerged into the center of Pantocyclus, terrifying floating giants of Shapes, a cry went up throughout the city. The Citadel guard tried to stop them but Bill mowed them down with a thought, causing Vyraius to whimper in his grip.

Bill rose above the city, his voice booming through the entire dimension:

"PEOPLE OF FLATLAND, YOUR CHIEF CIRCLE, VYRAIUS CERCHIO, HAS LIED TO YOU FOR FAR TOO LONG. I, **_BILL CIPHER_** , RETURN TO YOU FROM THE THIRD DIMENSION TO ENLIGHTEN AND LIBERATE YOU. 

"YOUR WORLD IS CORRUPTED BEYOND REDEMPTION. THOSE OF YOU WHO REMAIN, WHO SUPPORTED CERCHIO'S CRUSADE AGAINST THE TRUTH, WHO SUPPORTED THE OPPRESSION OF SHAPES TO SERVE YOUR OWN SELFISH NEEDS; YOU WHO LOOKED THE OTHER WAY WHILE FELLOW SHAPES WERE ABUSED AND BRUTALIZED UNTIL NONE WERE LEFT; YOU, THE REMNANTS OF FLATLAND-- YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED AND FOUND _WANTING_. YOUR WORLD WILL BE LIBERATED. 

"THIS IS MY MERCY. **_BILL CIPHER'S_** MERCY. YOUR KING MADE THIS CHOICE. LIBERATION OR SLOW DISSOLUTION BY THE GREAT VOID WHICH EVEN NOW, TEARS YOUR DIMENSION APART."

People began screaming, praying, to _him_ , to _Bill Cipher_ , _begging_ him to spare them, spare their world.

The inrush of this revelation staggered Bill for a moment before he took it all in, took in the _power_ their prayers were giving him. It filled him, boosted his own considerable strength, dizzying him with the headiness of intoxication, almost as though he were high, drunk.

High pitched, crazy, gleeful laughter bubbled out of him, full and loud and maniacally insane. It screeched through the dimension, deafening any mortal who could hear it.

Giant, blinding, _yellow_ ; Bill moved through the streets, sending Shapes scattering in terror everywhere he went. Vyraius was struggling against his hold, screaming incoherently, which only made Bill laugh harder and louder.

The sheer _pleasure_ he felt at the abject humiliation of the Chief and the awstruck terror of the perverse, cowering mortals scattering like ants below him was heady, almost too much for a _sane_ mind to bear. Bill absorbed it, claimed it, made it his own. What morality remained within him was fading, shredding to bits just as the Great Void was shredding Flatland.

"I WILL LIBERATE THIS DIMENSION," he boomed, "CLEANSE IT OF YOU AND ALL OF YOUR DEPRAVITY. DO NOT BEG ME FOR ANY FURTHER MERCY, ELSE YOU WILL BE SENT TO THE GREAT VOID TO SUFFER FOR ETERNITY UNTIL YOU CEASE TO EXIST."

"This isn't what I meant!" Vyraius screamed, "You said you would _liberate_ Flatland, not destroy it!"

"I said I would liberate Flatland," Bill snarled at him, not caring if anyone heard him any longer. "THIS is my liberation. You brought this upon yourself. _REMEMBER THAT._ "

He turned to Alistair. "We shall begin."

Alistair's own eye narrowed and he inclined his apex.

***

Pantocyclus was in ruins. Between the two of them, Alistair and Bill raised the remnants of the Prefectures, except for Cyran. They left it for last.

Through it all, Vyraius was kept as a terrified, blubbering witness.

Bill destroyed quickly. 

He didn't torture the Shapes, just immolated them. Torture wasn't something he enjoyed or found necessary and these Shapes didn't deserve more than a moment of his attention. All that was left were the craven anyway.

"You know," Bill said as they drifted over the smoldering ruin that was Vyraius' Palace, "in a way, I'm glad Tveir didn't kill you. Although out of everyone, _he_ deserved the pleasure more than even I did, it left you for _me_."

Vyraius stared up at him, eye bloodshot, shuddering from deprivation and revulsion. "Wh-what do you... m-mean...?"

"Vengeance was a word I embraced early on in my life," Bill snarled at him. "Being a Triangle, being looked down upon for what I was, being treated as a menial, a slave and a _toy_ ; as a curiosity because of my intelligence and creativity? Watching those I loved being hurt and killed because of something they had no control over, being killed because of _me_? I learned vengeance. I _loved_ vengeance. I _was_ Cipher before _anyone_ knew of him, Cerchio. Your selfishness, your lust for power, your pleasure at the pain of others, your _lecherousness_... it only fed my own desire for vengeance... against you, against the oppression you represented... by killing my family, my friends... _you_ brought this on yourself..."

Cyran spread out below them... what was _left_ of it.

It was a charred, blackened ruin. Flatter than even Flatland, nothing remained. Only ash and rock. Even the Ruins Bill loved were nothing now but gaping holes in the stone. The spruce and pine grove was a memory.

There was a low gasp.

Alistair.

Bill glanced at the Rhomboid. His eye was wide and filled with sorrow.

_He really loved this place._

The realization hit Bill hard. He'd seen Alistair in love with other worlds before, he even understood how much Alistair loved Cyran but seeing the deep sadness in his fellow demon's eye slammed home how _unsuited_ Alistair was for his lot in life. Alistair didn't just _love_ Cyran. It had been his _home_. His _true_ home. He'd had a life, a family--things he'd never really had before Flatland. Before _Bill_.

"Alistair, go back to the Palace. I will do this alone."

For once, Alistair didn't even think to argue.

In a violet flash, the Rhomboid was gone.

Bill set Cerchio down on the stone where the grove once stood.

"Don't run. There's nowhere left to go," Bill said in a low, merciless tone.

The Circle wobbled on his feet and collapsed to the ground.

Good. He couldn't run even if he'd wanted to.

Bill had very little concept of time as it moved through this dimension now but he did know that for Cerchio, the cleansing of Flatland had taken at least a week in the Circle's lifespan. Without water, the Circle would have died a few days ago, he figured. Bill's power was the only thing that had kept him alive.

"You're gonna die, Vyraius. I'm watching your life fade away. That'd make you happy, I think."

"There's nothing left," Vyraius said, moaning. "It's gone..."

"Yeah, funny. That's what I thought when I saw what you did to my Prefecture, to my family. But you didn't care about them. You didn't care about the people, no matter what you told them. You didn't even care about your _own_ family. The only one you cared about was yourself."

"It's gone... my kingdom is gone... _everything_ is gone... Just let me die... there's nothing left for me here... you got your revenge, Cipher. Just... please..."

"I like it when you say _please_ ," Bill mocked. "You remember when you said that to me? Yeah, I can agree with you there. I _do_ like it when you say _please_. Say it again. Maybe I'll _hear_ you."

"Please, Bill. _Please!_ "

"Wow. You really turn into a blubbering idiot when you have nothing left to live for."

"Please! Let me die..."

"I should. I really should," Bill said with a snarl. "Let you waste away in pain and misery in the middle of what used to be my favorite place in the multiverse. My _home_. You know, there aren't even animals left to chew on your angles. No animals. No people. No _trees_. _NOTHING_ , VYRAIUS."

"Kill me then. Murder me the way you've murdered the rest of my world."

"I may kill but never indiscriminately. I don't _murder_. Not like _you_."

"CIPHER, _PLEASE_!"

"Babble more. _Beg_ me more. I like it."

Bill's laughter was dark, sharp, deep and tinged with madness. Indeed, every word out of Vyraius fed an intense joy, a dark, writhing thing of hatred and pleasure and _satisfaction_. It was addicting, this. Almost erotic in its intensity. 

Bill hungered for more.

Vyraius shuddered, covering his eye.

"Please, kill me! At least I can try again in my next life."

"LIAR. I AM ALL KNOWING, ALL SEEING!" Bill hissed, "AND I KNOW THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN."

"You _are_ a God!"

"I KNOW THE GODS. I AM _NOTHING_ LIKE THEM."

"I'm sorry, Bill. I _am_!" Vyraius whimpered, desperately, "I-I'm so sorry for everything I did to you, to your family, to your people!"

Bill glared at him. Everything Vyraius said and did was a lie. Bill knew this as deeply as he knew anything. All-seeing and all-knowing wasn't just a catchphrase. The Empress was nothing if not thorough.

"YOU LIE."

"...no..." Vyraius shuddered and whimpered, slumping down to the ashes.

"I'VE _SEEN_ YOUR DREAMS. I _KNOW_ YOUR DESIRES. THEY _SICKEN_ ME AS MUCH AS THEY DID WHEN I WAS MORTAL."

Bill poked him with the butt of his cane.

"Death is too good for you," he purred, dark satisfaction lacing his words, "You see, if I kill you, or _allow_ you to die, you will return. In some way, some form, you will reincarnate, be given a chance to right your wrongs. It is the way of the universe, the cycle of existence. However, _I_ know you will not change. No amount of lifetimes will fix what you are at the core of your being."

Vyraius whimpered, scrabbling into the ash.

"SO. YOU CAN'T BE ALLOWED TO DIE BUT YOU CANNOT CONTINUE EXISTENCE THE WAY YOU ARE." Bill chuckled. "SO..... I THINK YOU CAN SUFFER, UNTIL I CHOOSE TO RETURN. YOU WON'T DIE, CERCHIO, OH NO... BUT I THINK I WANT YOU TO _WALLOW_ IN YOUR SELF-PITY AND MISERY FOR A WHILE."

He leaned back and regarded the miserable excuse for a Chief Circle for several long moments, gazing at him with his giant, cat-slitted eye. He knew this was excruciating and it lasted for what seemed to Vyraius, an eternity.

After a further long moment, Bill chuckled nastily and translocated, leaving the man to his torment.

***

"Good," Alistair said, darkly. "He deserves no less."

In the ruins of the Palace, Alistair and Bill surveyed the remains of Flatland. As a dimension, it was still intact but as a habitable world, it was desolate. No Shapes were left except the miserable shell of the Chief Circle.

"But we're not done yet," Bill said.

"I know. We can't leave him alive."

"Yeah," Bill said. "Nor can we leave the dimension this way."

Alistar's eye frowned.

"It's going to be destroyed eventually, Bill," Alistair said sternly. "We need to stop."

"Alistair, you know as well as I do that this isn't the extent of my plans."

Alistair sighed. "I-I know... I just _hoped_ that maybe--"

Bill shook his apex. "Alistair, no. Flatland won't be liberated until the dimension is completely raised." He looked down. " _This_ wasn't the part I didn't want you to see. What follows..."

Alistair's eye widened.

Bill's own eye narrowed. "Cerchio's fate awaits." 

"Bill, you don't have to do this. Your-- _our_ vengeance has been satisfied. Let Cerchio die. Leave his corpse to rot with this dimension."

Bill rose above Alistair, his Shape shifting and growing. "Leave me to my work, Alistair. Your part in this is over."

"Bill!"

As Bill looked down upon the Rhomboid, his color deepened to a blood-red crimson, his shape wreathed in white fire. Alistair stared at him. A giant, burning eye the color of the Void slashed through with a blinding white gazed back. Monstrous and truly demonic, Bill's echoing voice shook what remained of the Palace.

" _LEAVE NOW._ "

With what had to have been a gulp, the Rhomboid shimmered and translocated.

Away.

Home.

*** 

##  **_"VYRAIUS CERCHIO, YOUR TIME HAS COME!"_ **

The Circle looked up at Bill and screamed with a rasping, weak voice. He screamed until he couldn't scream anymore.

Bill laughed at the pathetic wretch the king had become. An insane glee suffused him at the man's terrified reaction.

The Triangle looming above Cerchio was a sight none of the abominations Vyraius had witnessed, or indeed performed himself, had prepared him for.

It was massive, awesome, scintillating blood red, outlined in white fire, with a fiery giant black eye that blazed with malevolence. The ever-present top-hat and bow-tie were the same glaring white as was the crook-necked staff of fire he carried. Arms, many, _many_ arms, all white and writhing like snakes protruded from the creature's sides and a glistening black tongue emerged from the eye-mouth, blood-red fangs appearing above and below that terrible, burning eye.

"...A-are you going to-to... _kill_ me now...?" Cerchio croaked. "Finally?"

"AHAHA, NO... I HAVE A _MUCH_ BETTER IDEA."

His screaming voice resounded from every corner of the devastated dimension.

The Circle, naked, emaciated, shuddering in the ash of his once-kingdom, could only stare up at the monster above him, flames licking at his body, searing, hurting but not consuming him.

A gigantic hand reached down to pick him up.

"WATCH AS THE WORLD YOU KNEW CEASES TO EXIST."

The dissolution was swift. With a wave of Bill's hand, golden yellow fire swept through the remains of Flatland, cerulean, scarlet and white-hot flares engulfing the world around them. The very rocks shrieked as they were ripped to shreds in a hot tumult of Bill's blue fire. In an instant the only remaining shred of Flatland was Cyran, surrounded by a dying world, a dying dimension.

"THIS IS TRUE LIBERATION."

"This is wanton destruction," Vyraius moaned. "Even I wasn't this evil."

"IF YOU'D BEEN GIVEN THE POWER I HAVE, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MUCH WORSE. YOU'RE A MONSTER BY NATURE. I WAS _CREATED_ TO BE THE MONSTER I AM. **_BY YOU_**."

"No... no... I only... I could _never_..."

"EVEN NOW, YOU _LIE_. YOU LIE TO YOURSELF, VYRAIUS. YOUR EVIL IS DEEPER THAN EVEN YOU KNOW."

Rags of the dimension drifted by them and as the smoke cleared, Bill dragged his captive to hover above the world they'd both once knew and Bill, at least, loved. Vyraius moaned.

All around them, in the great expanse of the universe, stars glittered and shone, galaxies spun and the great Flame of the Singularity glimmered in the very distance.

Below them, on the periphery of the fluttering shreds of the second dimension was... nothing.

Literally.

Nothing.

It was black. Not even black. It was darker than black. It was a color that had no name, for it wasn't a color. It was _Nothing_.

As they watched, the stars and galaxies and the blackness of space on the extreme periphery of the Nothing slowly winked out. Streams of stars and galaxies funneled into it, rupturing and ripping as they were pulled inexorably into the great void of _nothingness_.

"THE GREAT VOID," Bill said in a flat, toneless voice. "SEE HOW IT TEARS, DRAGS WORLDS, GALAXIES, _DIMENSIONS_ INTO ITSELF. SEE HOW IT _DEVOURS_ THE SHREDS OF FLATLAND. THIS IS THE END OF ALL THINGS, VYRAIUS. COUNT IT AS A MERCY THAT YOU SEE THE BEAUTY OF THESE THINGS WHEN YOU DENIED THEM TO YOUR PEOPLE YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. SEE HOW EVEN _THIS_ BEAUTY FINDS THE ULTIMATE END."

Vyraius was speechless, shaking weakly in Bill's grasp.

"I HAVE SEEN THE FUTURE OF FLATLAND IN MANY DIMENSIONS. MANY OF THEM EMBRACED THE IDEAS OF SCIENCE, EMBRACED THE IDEAS OF EQUALITY AMONG SHAPES. MANY EXPLORED SPACE, ENCOUNTERED BEINGS GREATER THAN EVEN SPHERIUS. THEY GREW, LEARNED, PROSPERED. OUR HOME, OUR DIMENSION MIGHT HAVE BECOME ONE OF THEM, HAD YOU NOT BEEN SO EGOCENTRIC, SO POWER HUNGRY. WE MIGHT HAVE BEEN SAVED. All of us."

Vyraius looked up into Bill's awful countenance.

"You _were_ saved," he whispered, "you became... _this_... this _power_... more than I could have dreamed. And _this_ is what you do with it? It should have been--"

"YOU. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN _YOU_ WHO ASCENDED TO GODHOOD. IS THAT WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY?"

He snarled at the Circle. "NO, DON'T ANSWER. I _KNOW_ THAT IS WHAT YOU ARE THINKING. EVEN AT THE END, FACED WITH ALL OF THIS, _EVERYTHING_ YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH, ALL YOU CAN DO IS CRAVE MORE POWER." He snorted. "You're _pathetic_."

"I would have done better with it than you have!" Vyraius screamed hysterically, voice hovering on the edge of sanity. "You're a monster! An insane monster!"

"AHAHAHA! YES, WHAT'S YOUR POINT? YOU MADE ME THUS!" Bill screamed back. "I _AM_ INSANE AND YOU'RE AT MY MERCY! THAT MERCY HAS RUN ITS COURSE. I HAVE NONE LEFT. ESPECIALLY FOR _YOU_ , VYRAIUS CERCHIO."

With that, Bill lifted the Chief Circle up and held him closer to the edge of the Void's grasp.

"WH-what are you _doing_?!" Vyraius screeched, flailing in Bill's grasp. "What are you---" the cry ended in a scream of pain and fury as Bill's hold on him loosened and _something_ dragged the screaming Circle from Bill's fingers.

Bill held on a few moments more, not too loose, not too tight, just _enough_.

He _felt_ rather than saw the nanosecond the Void caught hold of its new snack and in that instant, released the squirming Circle, withdrawing just as quickly to avoid being dragged in after him.

Sending a burst of blue-white fire on the hapless Circle's tail, Bill collected himself securely back in Cyran and watched, as Cerchio was stretched into an oval, screaming all the while. The Void took custody fully and began sluicing off bits of the still-living Shape, drawing them into Itself, slowly and excruciatingly shredding the former Chief.

For Eternity.

Watching, listening with deep satisfaction to the cries of the man, Bill felt true darkness rise inside him, bubbling out in a torrent of insane laughter he'd never heard from himself, nor from _Bill Cipher_ before. 

That laughter would haunt the nightmares of beings throughout the Ultraverse for centuries and millennia to come, particularly the residents of a small, backwater town on a small, backwater planet in a small, backwater dimension, generally known throughout the Ultraverse as Earth.

Perhaps most particularly it would plague the nightmares of the Pines family: a desperate, self-involved scientist, a grifter with a heart of gold, a kind young nerdy genius and a silly, sweet but painfully empathic artist.

It was in that moment, when Bill Cipher gleefully fed Vyraius to the Void, that what _must_ have been left of William Sifras' soul, truly died.

_Perhaps_.

_The End._

_Or is it?_


End file.
